Puppets
by Grummelnut
Summary: When Jennifer is taken as a hostage, Cyrus has no choice but to do what her captors ask of him. Yet, when SHIELD intervenes a strange series of events unravel themselves and a crushing truth is unearthed... Marvel AoS AU. Includes most SHIELD characters.
1. Hands Are Tied

**AN: My first AoS fanfic. However, it is set in an AU and is heavily centered around an OC I created many years ago but never incorporated into a story until recently.**

Prologue: Hands Are Tied

Cyrus dismantled the gun and dropped it in the dumpster beside him. His face was expressionless but his eyes were watery as he lifted his phone and took a picture of the dead girl he'd just killed; she was slumped against the wall with two shots in her chest, her head was lolled forwards so her face was hidden by her blonde hair. She was wearing jeans, strappy heels, a grey blouse and a plain white cardigan.

She'd been pretty, with a job, maybe a boyfriend, a family; definitely a family, he knew the family… or at least he knew of them. They were wealthy, powerful people; it wasn't a coincidence that she was the daughter. He knew exactly why she'd had to die but that didn't make him feel any better, she hadn't deserved it. He was the hand of someone else while he himself had his hands tied. If he'd had a choice he wouldn't have done it. Not ever. But recently all his choices had been made for him and there was nothing he could do about that.

He stepped away from the girl, further into the alley, he couldn't go back onto the main road, too suspicious. Instead, he scaled the wall onto the roof and wandered away across the rooftops. Unable to get the image out of his head, he stumbled slightly as he wiped his eyes clear of tears. He kept repeating to himself over and over again the same thing he'd been telling himself since he'd taken the job.

 _You're keeping Jennifer alive._


	2. More Than We Thought

Chapter One: More Than We Thought

Coulson looked down at the body of Kelsie Olaky. She was still slumped against the wall; her skin was pale and lifeless. His expression was distraught as he sighed and pulled his eyes away to look at May.

"Why would someone do this?" he asked folding his arms and tucking his hands into his armpits. He stole a glance over his shoulder at the body, shook his head and looked away again.

"Money, revenge… There's a lot of reasons," May shrugged.

"I don't think so, this is the fourth murder related to a CEO of a company in two weeks, it doesn't make sense," he almost complained. May said nothing and continued rummaging in the dumpster, she made a face at him as she reached inside with a gloved hand and pulled out the slide of a pistol.

"Murder weapon?" Coulson asked.

May shrugged again. "That's my guess,"

She retrieved the grip.

"Wasn't one of them found with a massive hole in their gut or something?"

"That's what was in the papers,"

"Right, that was all the way over in Oregon," Coulson remembered it being reported on the news. "Are there any similarities in the deaths?"

"Aside from being the family of a corporate owner? I have no idea, you should ask Skye to do some digging,"

"That was my next plan," Colson nodded, restraining himself from looking at the body as he headed back towards the SUV. Jemma and Fitz appeared at the mouth the alley.

"Is it bad, sir?" Jemma asked, her face contorted with worry.

"If by bad you're asking if she's dead, then yes, it's bad," he nodded.

Both glanced around Coulson to steal a look at the pair of legs protruding from behind the dumpster. Jemma averted her eyes to the ground and nodded slowly.

"See if you can find anything, prints, fibers; you know the drill,"

With that, the pair slipped around him and scurried towards the body carrying their cases of equipment.

* * *

Fitz made a noise when he saw the body and immediately reeled around to look at anything else. He placed a hand on his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut.

"My God, how long has she been out here for?" he asked loudly. Jemma tutted him, crouched by the body and checked the temperature. She didn't understand Fitz sometimes, this girl actually looked peaceful and, as far as she was aware, her death had been swift and painless.

"Jemma?" her lab partner insisted.

"Barely five hours, Fitz," she answered quietly as she tilted the girl's head upwards. "Poor thing,"

Kelsie's clothes were barely stained, curious given the positioning of the entry wounds. Jemma frowned slightly and leaned forwards.

"How'd she die?" Fitz broke the silence. He placed both hands on his hips and stared hard at a garbage bag against the opposing wall.

"Shot, twice, in the chest," Jemma's voice was full of concentration as she lifted up Kelsie's blouse to inspect the wounds.

"I have the gun," May called.

They both turned to watch her hold up a collection of bags containing individual gun parts. Fitz pointed a finger in her direction then gave her a thumbs' up.

"Good. I'll look at it back at the lab, thank you,"

May nodded and headed from the alley. Fitz looked around out of curiosity to see what Jemma was doing. He squeaked in disgust and turned away again when he saw her prodding around on the girl's shattered, blood-encrusted sternum.

"Fitz, if you're that squeamish go and sit in the car," she snapped.

"That's a dead body, I don't like dead bodies!" he exclaimed as he squatted down and busied himself with the DWARFs; he produced the control tablet and activated them.

"It's perfectly natural, Fitz… Aside from the bullets," Jemma muttered.

Fitz wasn't listening.

"Alright my pretties, find me something so we can locate this bastard," he said and pressed a few more commands before watching them set about to work. For a few minutes, while Jemma scrutinized what she was seeing, the quad-copter robotic drones zipped around scanning the walls, the ground, the dumpster and even the garbage bags. Fitz read the data, there was nothing out of the ordinary that indicated anyone besides them had been in that alley.

"I'm going to need to do an autopsy," Jemma declared to him.

Fitz lifted his face from the table to look at her. His face was mortified.

"Why- Why would you need to do that?"

"To be sure," Jemma answered.

"About what? Isn't it obvious?"

"It _appears_ obvious, Fitz, but not everything is as it seems, besides science says we should investigate further,"

"We?" he squeaked.

* * *

Coulson got into the driver's seat of the black SUV, he sat and waited for the inevitable call from Director Fury asking for a progress report, to which Coulson would have to tell him that it wasn't looking good. Again.

There were three other locations where the dead family members of CEOs had been found; Oregon, California, and Florida. At first, they'd been considered by the local crime services and dubbed as violent robberies, but an out of the box observation from S.H.I.E.L.D had found similarities and put everything into perspective.

Someone was targeting them specifically.

Coulson didn't have to wait long for Fury to call. As he sat twiddling his thumbs and staring out of the window at Fitz and Simmons working, the vehicles inbuilt sat-phone squawked. Coulson's head snapped around and he answered it on the first ring.

"Sir," he said bluntly.

"Coulson… Any luck?"

"Not yet, going to need to wait for Jemma's results on the fibers and the gun,"

"It was a gun this time?"

"Yes, sir,"

Fury huffed a laugh. "Probably the nicest way any of these poor folks have gone,"

"Do I want to know the others?" Coulson asked.

"You can read it in the files,"

"All of them?"

"Yes. I'm having you head this operation,"

"You are?"

"I hope that's not an inconvenience?"

"No, sir,"

"Good. There's a cooperation over in New York that I need you to look into first, this has gotten out of hand as it is and the papers are catching on. It won't be long until everything goes to shit and SHIELD ends up answering for it,"

"Well head down there as soon as we're done here,"

"Oh, and have that little hacker prodigy of yours pull up what she can on all of them, SHIELD is good, and I hate to admit it, but she's better,"

Coulson smirked. "Yes, sir,"

"Good… Keep me updated,"

Fury hung up a second later. Coulson chewed it over for a moment. His attention was dragged away to May opening the passenger door and climbing in. She looked at him then at the sat-phone then back to him, she smiled knowingly.

"Fury?"

"As always," Coulson buckled his belt up. "They all done?"

"Jemma's loading the truck, she wants to perform an autopsy so the body's being transferred also,"

"That means something unusual has caught her attention which means we should be ever so slightly concerned," Coulson acknowledged. "What about the others?"

"Skye and Ward should be back from getting the camera footage of the alley soon enough,"

"Great, we'll head back to the bus then,"

"What's the rush?" May asked clipping her belt in.

"Fury's put me in charge of finding out how everything fits together, so I've got a lot of reading and planning to do," he told her as he put the car in gear.


	3. Reason To Kill

Chapter Two: Reason To Kill

Large oak doors opened inward and Cyrus entered a large dimly lit room furnished with a long, centrally placed mahogany table complete with matching chairs and a series of cabinets displaying various trophies and photographs or an extensive alcohol collection. The only light came from two heavily shaded light bulbs located just beyond either end of the central furnishing, it bathed the wood in an orangey glow and kept whoever sat at the head of the table in an eerie shadow, like something out a spy film.

Cyrus ignored everything and went straight up to the table, the edge of which pressed slightly into his thighs when he came to a stop. He produced the phone, brought up the image and flattened the device screen down, then he flicked his arm forwards and sent it skidding down the length of the mahogany table towards the man eating a meal at the other end. It stopped thirty centimeters from his plate.

There was a pause.

Then a soft _clinking_ sound as cutlery was placed on the plate. The man looked up at him, kept his gaze fixed as he reached for the device and turned it over. His focus changed to the image displayed.

A smile crept across his face.

He seemed to relish in seeing the image.

"Good," was all that was said, his face hidden still in shadow.

Cyrus didn't know why he did that; he'd already revealed his identity to Cyrus and he was well known to most of America too, maybe it made him feel intimidating. Not that he needed to take it any further, the man had already proven he was a lunatic and having significant leverage over Cyrus meant the young man was at his disposal either way.

His employer was heavy set from regular exercise, square-faced, neatly shaved and trimmed, always in a suit that varied in dark colours from blue to black. He wore dark-rimmed glasses and had blue eyes. His hair was brown, his skin tanned like Cyrus'. Unlike him, however, the man was crueler beyond anything he'd ever heard of or read in fiction. A spectrum Cyrus could never have fathomed existed.

"Any problems?" he asked, setting the phone down and returning to his meal.

"No,"

Chewing. Quiet enough to be polite but loud enough to be horrendously irritating.

The man swallowed the mouthful down.

"Everything was done as instructed?"

"Yes,"

Another piece of food went into his mouth. Cyrus took a breath. Waited.

"Good,"

As always, he made Cyrus wait. It made his skin crawl listening to the chewing, especially in a dead silent room. He watched from where he was, fuming. He hated the way the guy chewed, the way he sat in this lighting, the way he smirked at everything like was a game.

Three minutes later, he wiped his mouth and looked up as he pushed the unfinished plate of food away; a waiter appeared and swept it away immediately, plate and man disappear through a door at the back of the room that led to the kitchen.

"Take him to see her," he instructed one of the many security men he had waiting around in the dining room. "Then bring him back here,"

Cyrus straightened and abruptly turned to follow the man from the room. He knew where to go off by heart; out into the hallway, up the main staircase, across the landing and down the hallway to the third room on the left. He'd made this trip five times in the last two months, each time it pained him as much as it relieved him. Once upstairs the suit unlocked the door and shoved it open, he checked inside the room for a moment then backed out and let Cyrus enter.

Inside were three girls, Jennifer, Alice, and Anjelica. He went straight to Jennifer who was on her feet in an instant and had her arms wrapped around his neck. He held her tightly against him, she gripped him equally hard, her nails digging into his sides as she sobbed into his shoulder, her legs went weak and the two of them sunk to the floor so they knelt in front of one another. The other girls kept well away to the other side of the room. All of them were here for the same reason Jennifer was.

"You killed again?" she whispered hoarsely. Cyrus nodded into her neck.

"I had to,"

"They're never going to let me go, you know that," she told him.

He nodded again.

"Caleb has you wrapped around his finger,"

"I know," he breathed. "But there is no way I'm letting him hurt you,"

"It's destroying you, doing this,"

"I can't do anything else,"

"You can't keep doing this,"

"I have to,"

He pulled away. She felt guilty that people were dying so she could live and hated that Cyrus was now a murderer… Worse, he was broken. The pain of claiming innocent lives was clashing with the thought of losing her. It was too much for him, Cyrus was a gentle character, soft-spoken and kind and shy, but every time she saw him a piece of him was lost. Ripped from him. He was starting to scare her. He cried less and less with each visit, this time he'd barely shed a tear.

"You still have a choice, you know," she whispered.

"Maybe," his shoulders barely lifted with his shrug. "If that's the case then I'm choosing to kill for you,"

Jennifer bawled, covered her mouth and slumped onto her heels.

Cyrus got to his feet.

"Take care of yourself out there," she barely managed to get out.

He nodded. Ever since his first job he'd been trying to figure out how to get her free but there was nothing he could do. Caleb had people watching Afterlife, their home, he'd know if Cyrus said anything and the moment he did, Jennifer would die.

"See you soon," He kissed her forehead then left. Keeping is short was better. It wouldn't soften the blow if she was killed, but it made the immediate pain more bearable. Knowing she was okay was getting him through but still at a great cost.

* * *

The guard escorted him back downstairs and into the dining hall. Caleb was still there, though he was stood over by his drinks cabinet with a whiskey in his hand.

"You're welcome," he said.

Cyrus' nose curled and he clenched his jaw. Said nothing. Caleb continued.

"New job," he came to the table and set his drink down.

"Already?"

"Yes," his voice was soft for some reason. It made Cyrus uneasy.

"Afterlife will get suspicious," Cyrus told him, folding his arms.

"Just listen," His voice harsh suddenly.

Cyrus chewed on his tongue for a moment, cocked his head to the side.

"Good," Caleb picked his drink up again. "I need to give you the task now because I'm expecting visitors around in the near future, by that I mean tonight, they'll be staying a while which means you and I cannot be seen together for some time."

"Okay."

"The job is simple… I need you to kill my son,"

Cyrus blinked, a frown invading his face.

"I can see your wheels turning, let me make it clear, my son is no good to me, too much like his mother, weak and groveling, I can't have that, not in this line of work,"

That was cold.

Cyrus knew he wouldn't enjoy this job either, even if it was Caleb's own son.

"Deal with him… kindly. He is still my son after all,"

Cyrus tried piecing together why this was Caleb's next step. It came to him a few seconds later. Caleb must've already figured out that either government agencies or local crime services had already linked the affected companies together. That meant he knew they'd be calling to inform him he was a possible target and that they'd be providing protection to him and his family at all times. Cyrus killing his son would take attention away from Caleb's plans by making him a victim.

"There will be a security detail with him when you do… So, deal with them as you please,"

"Security?"

"Is that a problem?"

A pause. "No,"

"Good. Another thing, this has to happen tomorrow, two in the afternoon when my son is on his way back from school,"

"During the day?"

"Is that a problem?"

Another pause. "No,"

"I don't need to remind you as to what'll happen if you fail,"

"No. You don't," came the muttered reply.

It hadn't been a question, but Cyrus clarified he didn't want any harm coming to Jennifer anyway. If there was any other way to not kill again, he'd have taken it in a heartbeat.

"Good."

Caleb turned away from him.

"The cell phone," Cyrus pointed at the device still lying on the table. Caleb regarded it for a moment then shook his head.

"I think I'll know as to whether or not you do your job,"


	4. A Curious Finding

Chapter Three: A Curious Finding

Skye frowned hard at her screen as she scoured through the information she'd managed to pull up on all the companies linked in any way to the ones that were targeted. Despite using every trick in the book to hack and retrieve the data there was nothing that aroused her suspicion; all the companies of interest were legitimate, with the money moving in and out as she would expect, there weren't any discrepancies with actual goods either.

Collectively it didn't make sense as to why any of them would be attacked; individually it was more likely, especially as most of the companies were either law firms or stock brokering agencies that probably swindled some of their customers, but the fact that all four murders had occurred within two weeks led them to a dead end. She had a feeling that there was something else at hand, but it remained undocumented on machinery which meant it was out of her line of sight.

The company at the epicenter of the investments was Engine; a renowned bioengineering research and development web that was doing fascinating and life-changing work in terms of medical procedures that could help stabilise people in critical condition and put them back onto the path of recovery. It was all headed by the famous Caleb Robinson, someone who had been on the cover of Forbes and publicly voice that he adamantly keen on doing what was best people struggling with illness everywhere.

Skye mulled everything over. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that she could tell Coulson; there wasn't even any new information he might not know about, it was just supporting companies investing into Engine so they could develop procedures and medicines that would soon be distributed to help people. She toyed with the bottle of water sitting on the coaster beside her. She had a sulk on her face, disappointed that she'd been defeated despite her best efforts.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Fitz appear, he was shaking his head and constantly looking over his shoulder as if being chased.

"Fitz?" she quirked her brow at him and sat up.

He froze in surprise and looked at her.

"Skye… Hello!" his expression turning from grim to joyous.

"What's up?" she asked.

"Uh," he pointed over his shoulder back towards the rear of the plane. "Jemma is in the process of autopsying Kelsie Olaky's body in the lab,"

"I see," she pursed her lips. "Shouldn't you be helping?"

He glared at her.

"Are you mad?" he exclaimed. "There is a body in the lab with multiple incisions and its guts all over the place,"

"Fitz, we need to figure this out,"

"Besides I would only be a liability to Jemma's expertise in that field," he pointed out.

"And what if she needs to run… tests… or something?" she wasn't entirely sure how things worked down there.

"She's perfectly capable," he glanced at her laptop. "What're you working on?"

Skye looked at her screen then shrugged.

"Researching Engine and the supporting companies, Coulson wanted me to see if there was anything out of the ordinary,"

"Is there?"

"Nope, nothing," she shook her head. "They're cyber footprint is squeaky clean in terms of anything we're looking for,"

"Engine is phenomenal, aren't they?" Fitz fell into a trance of admiration.

"I guess, but something doesn't feel right,"

"How could you say that; do you know what Engine is working on?" Fitz asked.

"Regener- "

"Regenerative medicines, yes," he nodded his head patronisingly. "It'll change the world,"

"I know, Fitz, in time, but right now these murders are what's important…"

"Right," Fitz quietened down and agreed. "Maybe you could get Coulson to let you look at the files, and then you cross-reference the deceased with the companies..."

"... And see if there's any connection," Skye finished.

She looked at him in surprise and nodded her head with an impressed smile. She waggled a finger at him. She wondered why she hadn't thought of that.

"That is a very good idea, Fitz, thanks,"

"No problem,"

Skye got to her feet and wandered off towards Coulson's office.

"I'll just…" Fitz placed his hands on his hips and sighed.

* * *

Jemma finished her autopsy three hours and fifteen minutes after she'd had the body transferred from the crime scene to the Bus. It had been a tedious and delicate process in which she'd had to open Kelsie's chest in order to pursue her suspicions about the cause of death. In the end, Jemma was quite surprised at what she'd learned, not overly so given her prior assumption due to the lack of blood, but enough to widen her eyes when she found that Kelsie Olaky hadn't been killed by the gunshots found in her chest.

Having cut open Miss Olaky and inspecting every organ, Jemma had come to the conclusion that she'd been dead before being shot and that the cause of death was from asphyxiation. At first, it hadn't been clear as to what had suffocated her, there were no markings on the body, no signs of strangulation via bruises or a crushed trachea but once she'd checked the lungs it was clear that her lack of oxygen had come from carbon poisoning. Oxygen had been unable to diffuse into her blood as a layer of carbon that coated the inside of her lungs and prevented it from happening. It wasn't a very pleasant way to go, she would've been thrashing for at least three minutes before falling unconscious and eventually dying.

She looked around for Fitz to tell him the news, but he wasn't there. She sighed and went about finishing her documentation of results. Coulson wouldn't be happy to hear this development, especially as there had been no traces of a fire or carbon-related residues anywhere in the alleyway; it just added an extra layer to the investigation that wasn't wanted and would leave them all begging the question as to where this carbon had come from.

She covered Kelsie's body with a plastic sheet, washed her hands, gathered her findings, and headed upstairs towards Coulson's office.

* * *

Skye knocked on the door then played with her fingers for the few short seconds it took for Coulson to acknowledge the sound and make a response.

"Come in," he called, the door opened and Skye stepped in with a smile on her face. Coulson lifted a pile of papers and tapped them on the surface of his desk to straighten them all. He smiled back as he set them aside along with four brown files, he leaned back in his seat and waited for Skye to settle herself in the chair opposite.

"Found anything?" he asked.

Skye shook her head disappointedly. "Nothing that can help us,"

"Really?" he looked at his desk thoughtfully. "So, everything is legitimate?"

"Between the companies, yes, individually some of the supporting companies have their… quirks,"

"Ah," Coulson nodded. "The files don't exactly help either… Aside from curious deaths I can't find anything,"

"I was wondering…" Skye's eyes immediately betrayed what she was thinking.

"If you could see the files?" Coulson finished for her.

"Yes, if that's allowed or whatever, it's just that it might give me some ideas on what to look for,"

"Such as?"

"Not sure, I just figured I could cross reference some of the deaths with the companies and see where that took me,"

Coulson glanced at the brown file folders then across at Skye before shrugging to himself and handing them across.

"It's hard to discern as to whether there are multiple killers or just one," he told her as she started reading.

Skye didn't respond, she wanted to know everything first.

Coulson continued. "The most curious one is the one in Oregon, Cassie Dorton, wife to Derrick Alderman, she was found with a nasty jagged hole in her gut where something had pierced her,"

Skye was reading that one now.

"Says she was found in a puddle of water in her living room,"

Coulson spread his arms slightly. "Beats me,"

Skye glanced at the cause of death for Jordon Carter, son of Anson Carter, he'd been stabbed multiple times in the chest although he was also found with lungs filled with water. The grimace on her face spread slightly more as she read each file. It was horrible but didn't really make sense.

"Why stab if you already drowned them?"

Coulson shrugged then remembered what May had said back in the alley. "Revenge, maybe,"

Skye looked at him and nodded. "Maybe,"

She finished reading the files. Punctured gut and in a puddle of water; lungs filled with water and stabbed; found frozen brittle inside a butcher's shop freezer and then there was today, Kelsie Olaky who'd been shot twice in the chest.

"Really weird MOs," Coulson commented.

"I think it's more than one person, two by what I've read," Skye offered.

Coulson waited for her explanation.

"Well," she continued hastily. "Three were found in water-related scenarios… I guess; in a puddle, drowned or in a freezer,"

"Right," Coulson nodded. "And the third was shot in an alley,"

"Exactly,"

"Okay, what else?"

Skye shrugged.

Someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," Coulson yelled. It was Jemma.

"Hello, sir," she looked at Skye. "Skye,"

"Everything okay with the autopsy?"

"It went as planned, though the results were something different entirely,"

"How so?"

Jemma laid her files in front of him, tapping a specific section with a thin pale finger. "She didn't die like we thought she had,"

Coulson read, then looked up at Skye. "Asphyxiation,"

"What?" she leaned forward in her chair.

Coulson frowned. "Carbon poisoning?"

"Yes sir, I found a thin layer of carbon particles covering the entirety of the inside of her lungs,"

"Great," Coulson slumped a little. "More complications,"

"The problem is that Fitz and I found no traces of anything in the alley, I don't know where this carbon came from,"

Coulson rubbed his face and let out a long sigh. "Okay, here's what happens next, we're going to head to New York and meet with Caleb Robinson, I've had headquarters dispatch teams to the two other companies that haven't been targeted yet,"

"Isn't it a little late to be bothering them?" Jemma asked.

"They've probably had restless night wondering when they're being targetted next. I'm sure they'll be grateful to hear from us,"

"Think we'll find something while we're there?" Skye shut the folders and laid them on her lap.

Coulson nodded his head.

"If we're really lucky, perhaps we'll bump into one of the murderers while they're on the job,"


	5. The Phone call

Chapter Four: The Phonecall

Caleb sat and listened to the phone ring three times. He'd been expecting this call since Cyrus had left. His face was creased with his smirk. He set his whiskey glass down and reached over to bring the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?" he asked, playing his role of a businessman scared for his family's lives.

"Caleb," said a voice he knew all too well.

His face fell.

He gulped quietly, his eyes darting back and forth across the length of his desk as he tried to work out what he'd done to receive this call. This hadn't been the call he'd been expecting at all, in fact, this was the last call he ever wanted to receive.

"Yes?" he murmured.

"Surprised to hear my voice, Caleb?" the voice continued. It was a woman, soft-spoken but with a tone that made him shiver. He wasn't sure how to respond. She chuckled.

"I wouldn't be, I think you know that you're slacking on the task we gave you,"

"It's been difficult, meeting two deadlines," Caleb stammered.

"Which is why I gave you the means to get it done quickly," she growled. "Now tell me, why is your son still alive?"

"It's Cyrus-"

"Don't blame Cyrus for your inability to meet schedules, Caleb," the woman snarled at him. "You know full well what he's capable of,"

"Yes,"

"I'll ask again, why is your son still alive?"

"He… He won't be for much longer," Caleb explained.

The woman chuckled.

"Tomorrow, is it, Caleb? Two in the afternoon?"

He wasn't surprised she knew. She was the orchestrator of an entire plan he only knew a small fragment of. "Yes,"

"Good. And have Jackson deal with the other two,"

He wondered why. "Okay,"

"And should Cyrus fail…"

"I kill the girl, yes, I know, I remind him of that each time we meet,"

"Make sure it's you who kills her,"

Caleb's brow furrowed slightly. "I could get- "

"No, if you want to be part of this it's time you got your hands dirty,"

"Understood,"

"Good, and if you think I'm being lenient, it's because your son is going to die,"

"It doesn't bother me," Caleb grumbled.

"Oh... I think it does,"

The line went dead.

Caleb picked up his whiskey and wandered to the dining room where his family was eating their dinner, he leaned on the doorframe. The moment Cyrus had left, he'd returned to his real home in the suburbs of New York. The room was an open plan extension of the kitchen, it was normally very bright but with the shorter days of winter, it was very dark. The blinds were all drawn and the lonesome chandelier lookalike that hung above the center of the table was shining bright, aside from the table and chairs for four there was nothing else but a grand piano that stood in one of the corners.

He looked at his daughter, beautiful, fiery and intelligent, she brought a smile to his face. The perfect choice for taking on the mantle, though she still had some ways to go. His gaze then fell to his wife and son, they soured his smile and made him uncomfortable as they feverishly ate their steak and vegetables. Both even looked weak, skinny with no discernible features. He thought his son would've been the one, but he was lacking everything his older sister had, admittedly he was only sixteen but already Caleb couldn't see him amounting to anything.

 _Unworthy_.

He sighed and stood to watch them for a moment, mostly his son. He searched for every little detail he hated. It would help tomorrow when there would only be two women sitting and eating their meals at his table. If they ate at all.

He returned his mind to the conversation that he'd had over the phone.

 _Why did she want Jackson to cross the last two off by himself?_

It didn't make much sense given that Jackson was in California still while Cyrus was right here in New York and was literally two states above Maryland and four states over from Illinois. There was a step he didn't know about. At least not yet, clearly once Cyrus had completed his task tomorrow there'd been an update on why he needed to be free, perhaps something had finally put things in motion.

 _Good. It was about time._

* * *

The phone in his office rang again completely breaking his train of thought despite it being muffled slightly by the closed door.

Caleb straightened and glanced over his shoulder, he'd almost forgotten that he'd been expecting another call; with a quick turn on his heels he headed towards it at a brisk pace, it'd be unprofessional if he failed to pick the phone up in time. This was the call he had been expecting, after all. It had to be. He hoped it was. The thought of hearing her voice on the end of the line again made him shiver.

He stopped in front of his desk and yanked the handset up to his left ear as he set the glass down yet again.

"Hello?" his voice sounded heavy from the minor exertion followed abruptly by having to speak. Holding it to his left ear was uncomfortable, he was right handed so everything about his stance was wrong but he couldn't switch ears or hands now. He'd already started the conversation.

"Mr. Robinson?" a voice asked. It definitely wasn't a sinister female voice, just a gentle sounding middle-aged male.

"Yes, speaking, who is this?"

"I'm agent Phil Coulson with the government agency known as SHIELD, there's something I'd like to discuss with you,"

Caleb smirked. This was exactly what he'd been hoping for.

"Is this about the murders concerning members of my colleagues' families?"

"Yes, this is, I hope you don't mind if myself and some agents come over in about an hours' time to discuss things and make plans for ensuring that you and your family are as safe as possible,"

"Not at all, I've been getting antsy thinking that my family is next, I'm surprised you didn't call sooner,"

"We didn't piece everything together until earlier today, unfortunately,"

"Better late than never, right Mr. Coulson?" Caleb commented.

"Right," though the voice sounded unsure. "We'll see you shortly then,"

"Yes,"

The agent hung up making Caleb clench his jaw. He was used to hanging up first and now twice in one day he'd been the one getting hung up on.

He moved around his desk and sat down, he pulled his drink closer and stared into the liquid for a long while.

* * *

The leading team of the SHIELD agents that arrived an hour later weren't quite what Caleb had been expecting.

A mismatched bunch that looked very shoddily put together, hell, three of them didn't look like they'd be much use protecting his family, and Coulson, the team leader, didn't seem any more capable than they were.

Two of them, Coulson and May, sat in chairs across from him while the dozen other agents locked down his home. His wife came in with warm drinks for them all, small china teacups, a bowl of sugar and a blue teapot all on a shiny metal tray. As Coulson sipped his drink courteously, Caleb put a question to him.

"Are you any closer to finding the murderer?" He laced his fingers on the desk.

Coulson set his drink down, straightened his tie. "I'm afraid not, whoever is behind this keeps the scenes clean, no fingerprints, no DNA, just the weapons they used to kill with,"

"I see, so you're dealing with a ghost,"

"Not really, but we have figured out that there's two murderers rather than one," Coulson told him.

"Oh, how'd you come to that conclusion?"

"The way in which the individuals were killed is different but there are similarities between three of the four,"

"And the fourth?"

"Completely different MO, we think the same person from Massachusetts will be the one that comes here,"

"It's a relief you're here then," Caleb pressed his palms against the top of the desk.

"You don't know anyone who would want to hurt you or your family do you?" May asked leaning forward and setting her china cup on the edge of his desk.

"Not at all, I'm sure you've read of my projects, I don't understand why anyone would, I'm trying to help people,"

"That's fine," Coulson shifted in his seat.

"I mean maybe there are competing companies that would but… I don't know if they'd be that aggressive,"

"Right, well, we're going to need to know yours and your family's schedules so that we can have agents with you at all times,"

"Right, right," Caleb leaned to the side and rummaged around in one of his desk drawers, he eventually straightened holding a diary which he laid in front of them. "There you go,"

May took a photo.

"And the others?"

"My son will be leaving the house to go to school at eight in the morning and he finishes at two, no trips for him so he'll be on school grounds all day, my daughter works at the company in one of the labs as an assistant so her hours are strange, probably nine to five though,"

"And your wife?"

"She stays at home mostly, sometimes visits her friends or goes shopping,"

"Right, we'll double check with all of them, if that's okay,"

"By all means,"

May got up and left the office to instruct the others on what to do and to double check with the other family members. Coulson glanced at her as she disappeared through the door to the right then finished his tea and smiled across at Caleb.

"She's more of an action-woman than a talker," he said.

"I figured," he blinked and brought his attention back to Coulson. The agent picked up some uncertainty in the man's eyes.

"You shouldn't worry, Mr. Robinson, we've got everything covered, we've dealt with situations like this many times, you're family is safe,"

"I'm sure they are," came the nodded response. "I just have a horrible feeling something is going to go wrong tomorrow,"


	6. Mission Failed

Chapter Five: Mission Failed

Unable to return to Afterlife thanks to Caleb and his schedule, Cyrus had been forced to spend the night in a bed and breakfast. With yet another restless night behind him, he felt like shit. A yawn split his face as he paced up and down the length of the small room, he tapped a beat out on his thighs as he went. It was bad enough killing one person who'd done nothing wrong, but two… And on consecutive days? He wasn't mentally prepared for this, he wasn't physically prepared either. He had no way of killing Caleb's son.

He paced some more.

His fists clenched at his sides. His heart raced, he could feel it thumping away.

Suddenly, he ran his fingers through his hair and doubled over with a gasp.

"He wants me to kill a fucking child!" he squealed at the floor. "His own fucking child!"

His body came down until he was squatting in the middle of the room. Tears were running down his cheeks, the heels of his hands pressed hard against his forehead as he attempted to massage away the thoughts. He shook his head vigorously.

"Holy shit…" he sniffed, he sprung upright and went to lean against the wall. He tried to control his breathing but it seemed futile. His stomach was tight, as was his chest. He sniffed again then sobbed with his eyes squeezed shut.

 _Jennifer._

 _You're doing this for Jennifer._

 _Keeping her alive is all that matters._

"Who the hell has their own son murdered?" he breathed. "How… Wha- "

He shook his head and went into the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He looked at himself in the mirror.

His stubble had grown a little around his face; his eyes looked darker, probably from the lack of sleep. His hair was a black curly mop; maybe Isabel could cut it for him when he got back if he had the sense the ask her. His skin was tan, brighter than usual oddly enough, he figured being out of the Afterlife bunker had given him time to recover.

 _Two O'clock. Kill the kid and get out of there._ _That's it._

"I can't kill a kid," he told his reflection.

 _If you ever want to see Jennifer again. You're going to have to suck it up and do it_.

"Jennifer wouldn't condone this,"

 _Maybe not. But would you forgive yourself if you let her die?_

"No,"

 _Exactly._

He laughed at the mirror. "I'm going insane, talking to my bloody reflection,"

 _You already are insane. You're officially a serial killer. Five murders all in Jennifer's name, what's one more?_

"What's one more?…" he mocked the voice in his head. With that, he twisted the taps off, dried his face with a towel and pulled on his boots and jumper.

His hand brushed his phone, he blinked and reached into his back pocket to pull it out. He looked at the blank screen for a moment and thought of Isabel.

 _What would she say when she found out?_

He knew she would. Sooner rather than later.

Aside from his sister, Isabel was the next person in line that he'd go to great lengths for. Yet he'd never lied to someone so much in all his life as he had to her. He lowered the phone and slipped it back into his pocket. He glanced at the clock on the wall, it was a little before midday. He figured lunch might settle his stomach.

 _Or make you throw up._

He pulled his coat on and headed downstairs to where they were serving breakfast still. He sat by himself against the wall and munched through two slices of toast, two rashers of bacon, a sausage and a ladle of beans. The entire room just smelt of bacon and toast; it was quite pleasant and for a while, it took Cyrus' mind off what he had to do.

Ultimately, it all came flooding back when he got up to leave.

It was a bit of a chilly day outside, even though it was half past midday, his breath still fogged in front of him and he had to keep his hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat to keep them warm. The whole time he thought about the best way to carry out the murder, he didn't have a gun or a knife, and if there was a small security detail with the kid then he'd have to compensate for that as well.

 _Look at you. Thinking in depth about how to carry this crime out. You are a murderer. And you're good at it._

Cyrus grimaced. There was no way he could tear himself away from everything he'd done in the last two months. No. That would haunt him forever now. He thought back to the first person he'd killed.

 _A nobody, that's what Caleb had said._

But a nobody to one person was always a somebody to someone else. Cyrus had found that out the hard way. The guy's name had been Blake Johnson, he'd worked at Engine as a lab-rat and was supposed to have been alone that night, unfortunately, unbeknownst to Cyrus, his girlfriend of one month had been visiting.

She'd come out of the downstairs bathroom and found Blake smothered on the couch just as Cyrus had been leaving. Her scream had made his blood run cold.

Over time Cyrus had been chipped away, every assassination he was made to carry out removed the once fun-loving person within him. All in two short months. Isabel had noticed, every time he returned from one of his four or five day "searches for Jennifer" he was less and less himself. Every time he had shrugged it off as being his worry for Jennifer's wellbeing.

A lying murderer. That's all he was now.

 _Suck it up. You've got a little over an hour now._

 _Better get moving_.

* * *

It was quarter to two when Cyrus reached the school. He bought a coffee from the café nearby and went and sat on a bench opposite the school entrance. He immediately spotted the large black SUVs with SHIELD insignia printed in white on the side, they were dotted at intervals along the main roads. His heart skipped a beat then sped up. He'd heard of SHIELD, he just didn't think that this was the security he'd be up against. He started bouncing his leg nervously, twisting the Styrofoam cup in his hands.

One of the SUV doors opened and a short, pretty, brown-haired girl got out. She slammed the car door shut, wandered down the length of the car, around the bonnet and leaned against it beside a tall male he hadn't noticed until then. They conversed, both turning their heads towards one another slightly at different times as they spoke. He spotted a couple of people in suits pacing up and down the frontmost fence. Cyrus could tell they were armed but he wasn't too fussed. No one would know it was him that had killed the boy.

One of the suits touched his communication, he was looking directly at Cyrus.

 _Fuck._

The girl and the taller man twisted their heads and looked at him. Cyrus smiled slightly at them both, the guy said something to the girl, she turned her head to say something back before coming around the front of the car and across the road to him.

 _You're here waiting for your sister. You're just waiting for your sister._

The girl sat down on the bench beside him. He sipped his coffee and kept his eyes forwards on the school.

"You've been nursing that coffee ever since you sat down," she said. "Haven't taken a single sip,"

"Yeah? Can't blame me for wondering why there are so many suits outside a school," he shrugged. Then in a poor attempt to look less conspicuous he took a long drink of coffee.

"Are you waiting for someone?"

"Yeah," He paused for a second then cleared his throat. "I'm picking up my sister,"

"From High School?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"

"Can't she walk home?"

"She's got a doctor's appointment, I'm taking her,"

"That's sweet of you,"

Cyrus said nothing.

"What's her name?" Skye continued.

Talking was not something he wanted to be doing. His heart was in his mouth and the last thing he needed was to be distracted and allow his mind to bring up what'll happen if he failed. Still, he decided to indulge her a little.

"Jennifer," he said in an even tone.

* * *

Skye sat beside his ruggedly handsome and yet somewhat frightening guy on the bench. He looked to be about her age, but he was a little scruffy, as though he'd been wandering aimlessly for a few days and just wound up here. He put her on edge a little, he seemed unpredictable.

"What's your name?" she asked him. He looked at her.

"Derrick Langstone," he answered.

"Skye," she held out her hand.

"No other names?" he asked as he shook it.

"You don't need it," she shrugged.

"Fair enough," a hint of a smile appeared on his face.

He looked back to the school.

For a couple of minutes, neither of them said anything.

"So… Derrick," she eyed him.

He didn't flinch.

Skye smiled.

The bell rung and Derrick, who she now knew wasn't a Derrick, got to his feet, Skye rose with him. "Nice meeting you Skye,"

"Can I get your number?" she asked after him with girlish innocence as he started to cross the road. Ward was looking over at them now.

"Um, no, I'm seeing someone," he told her.

"Oh, that's a shame,"

Skye, going out on a limb, produced her ICER, raised it at "Derrick's" back and fired twice.

Ward yelped her name in surprise as her suspect dropped like a stone in the middle of the road, his half-full coffee cup erupting when it hit the floor. Maybe she hadn't thought that out too well, but she'd had a feeling she'd have missed if he'd gotten any further away and calling for Ward would only have alerted him. So overall, she figured she'd made the right call.

"What the hell, Skye!" Ward yelled running around the car and standing over the body. "You can't just shoot people!"

"This is the guy!" Skye told him heatedly.

"How on Earth would you know that?" Ward snapped.

"Intuition,"

"Intu-" Ward groaned and took the ICER off her. He looked over at some of the other agents and gestured at them. "Put him in the car,"

He looked back at Skye. "You too, get in the car,"

"I don't know why you're angry, I was thinking like an operative,"

"No. You were reckless,"

Skye watched "Derrick" get put into the SUV, she gave Ward a glare before going over to the car and climbing into the front, she slumped in the seat like a child who'd just been told off for making a scene in the toy aisle. Her SO came around to the driver's side and spoke to the agent who was behind the wheel playing a game on his phone.

"Go back to the Bus and have him put in the interrogation room, we'll hold things down here," he looked across at Skye. "Let's hope you're right about this guy,"

* * *

Cyrus _was walking with a backpack on his shoulders through the woods in the snow-covered landscape of Canada up towards Lake Deschambault. Beside him, slightly out of breath from the cold and non-stop walking, was Jennifer. Her nose and cheeks were flushed pink and thick clouds of condensing breath billowed in front of her. She looked over at him, smiled brightly and powered on._

 _"We've got four days," he laughed. "No need to rush,"_

 _"I want to get as much meditation in as possible, Cyrus, now let's go,"_

 _Their boots crunched in the snow with each step, though with more than a foot-deep blanket it was more like wading than walking._

 _"It's really not that exciting you know," he told her._

 _"Of course, you'd say that… You're so modest about everything," she huffed._

 _"I'm serious!" he exclaimed._

 _"Whatever, I just really want to do it,"_

 _"Hours of meditation or Terrigenesis?" Cyrus quirked a brow. Jennifer stooped mid-stride and in a smooth motion flicked a handful of snow backward at him, it splattered against his shoulder._

 _"Hey!"_

 _"Asshole," she scowled at him. He laughed. She smiled. "So…"_

 _"So, what?"_

 _"What gift do you think I'll get?" she asked him._

 _"I don't know, maybe your mouth will fall off," he smirked. She turned and smacked his arm._

 _"Why are you so mean to me?" she mocked a whine. "Is it because I'm adopted?"_

 _Cyrus shook his head. "You can't pull that card anymore,"_

 _"No?"_

 _"No,"_

 _"Alright," she laughed, then went quiet. "When do you think mum and dad will come and visit again?"_

 _Cyrus smiled slightly. "Miss them already?"_

 _"I'm starting to think I miss them more than you do,"_

 _He shrugged. "Me too, but hey, they don't need to visit us every month,"_

 _"It's nice though,"_

 _"Yeah, I guess, but it annoys Jiaying and Gordon,"_

 _"Clearly not enough if they still allow it," she shrugged._

 _"I suppose," he agreed._

 _There was a growl of an engine._

 _Cyrus turned his head to the sound, they strained as whatever vehicle it powered struggled to overcome the terrain and snow. A pair of mono-headlights could be seen bouncing towards them; why they were on Cyrus didn't know but he did know they were coming right at them and fast._

 _He tackled Jennifer to the ground as one went crashing by._

 _"Shit!" Jennifer screamed as she rolled over onto her front. Cyrus' legs briefly scrambled for purchase in the snow, as he pushed himself up he grabbed hold of Jennifer's coat and yanked her upright._

 _"Come on!" he ordered, pushing her in front of him. He took a brief look behind him, the snowmobile that had gone crashing by was being dismounted, the second one was still going, circling around for another pass._

 _"Lose the backpacks," Jennifer told him, shrugging hers off her shoulders mid-run. Cyrus watched her bag hit the snow; she was right, they didn't need extra weight. He did the same and carried on running uphill after Jennifer._

 _When he reached the top, he noticed she was standing frozen on the spot._

 _"Jen, we have to keep-" he stopped mid-sentence. Standing in front of them was a dozen individuals in snow camouflaged military fatigues, each brandishing a weapon. There wasn't any distinct person in charge, he stepped forwards._

 _"What do you guys want?" he called to no one in particular._

 _"Cyrus, I don-"_

 _He turned abruptly as she crumpled to the floor._

 _"Jen!" he ran towards her, spotted the guy coming up the hill a second too late and felt something like a paintball hit his shoulder. He dropped like a stone._

* * *

Skye watched the guy she'd shot through the camera feed. He'd been haphazardly dropped into the chair by two other agents, his body slumped over and his head was resting on the table like a drunk. His arms were out to his right and cuffed to the table leg.

She was nervous; her arms going from folded, to down by her sides, to behind her head, to tapping agitatedly on the holotable. She felt stupid, Ward had been right about her being untrained in making decisions on people, but her gut had told her the guy was trouble the moment he didn't acknowledge the name 'Derrick'.

Maybe he wasn't the murderer, but he was hiding something. As she stared at the feed, she didn't hear Jemma approaching.

"This the killer?" the biochemist asked.

Skye jumped and spun. "Jesus, Jemma!"

"What?" Jemma twisted around too, glancing behind herself.

"You scared me!"

"Oh," Jemma blushed. "Sorry,"

"It's fine just… I don't know, cough or something,"

Jemma cleared her throat.

"Not now! Next time" Skye snapped, she looked at the feed again.

"Someone's nervous,"

"I might've made a mistake,"

"With?"

"Him,"

They both cast a look at the feed.

"Meaning?"

"I thought this was the killer… Maybe it is but… I don't know, I sort of just shot him,"

"Just shot him?" Jemma quirked a brow.

"With an ICER!" Skye told her.

"He's going to have a bit of a headache when he gets up,"

"Better than me using a real gun,"

"True. But it won't matter if he's not the killer, you can't just shoot civilians, Skye,"

"I know... I know," She huffed.

"Are you sure he's the killer?"

"I don't know…" Skye rubbed her hands over her face. She groaned.

Jemma placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"Well, we'll find out soon enough, it looks like he's up," she said. Skye looked down at the table.

"And really, really upset about it too,"

* * *

Cyrus opened his eyes, he was slumped on a cold metal table. His arms were at a weird angle and when he sat up he found them cuffed to the leg. His eyes darted around the room, drinking in his surroundings as he tried to make sense of everything. Then his pupils shrank in realisation.

"Oh no," he breathed, his gut wrenched. "No!"

He flicked his hands. They came free of the cuffs.

"No!" He roared.

He got to his feet and went to the door. He slammed a fist on it.

"What have you done!" He screamed hoarsely at the metal.

Stumbling backward from the door, he sunk to his knees sobbing loudly. "What have _I_ done?" his breath became short and ragged and he collapsed forward on all fours. He was in despair. Silent, bubbling despair.

Jennifer was dead.

He knew it.

Without a doubt.

Caleb's son wasn't dead which meant he'd failed his mission.

The consequence...

He didn't think the day would ever come, but it had. And it was all because of SHIELD.

 _The girl. Skye. She shot you. It's her fault._

Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks wet. He shook his head.

"It's my fault, I could've got her out at any time," he whispered to himself.

 _No. That bullet that hit you..._

 _It's the same one that got you into this mess back in Canada._

Cyrus perked up at the thought. His subconscious was right. The shots were almost identical. Not a chance he'd forget the feeling of getting shot.

It couldn't be a coincidence, could it? It made sense for a secret organisation to use weird dart guns on people they wanted to capture or interrogate.

 _What if SHIELD is behind all of this? What if they set you up to fail?_

That didn't make sense. What would killing Jennifer achieve? What would anything in the last two months have achieved? Maybe it had something to do with Afterlife?

His mind strayed back to Jennifer.

Pushing everything aside wasn't possible. Not when it hit this close to home.

What would his mum and dad say when they visited, next?

He made his way carefully back to the chair, eased himself onto it and sobbed.

No.

He cried.

Cyrus hadn't cried in a long time, he was good at keeping emotions like anger and sadness in check, but now the tears came flowing, his chest heaving with each short intake of air. He wanted to throw up but he kept it down.

The whole time, all he could think about, was how he'd failed his little sister.


	7. Unchained

Chapter Six: Unchained

Skye was staring at the video feed when Coulson entered the briefing room of the Bus. He set his pad down and leaned on the edge of the holotable to watch with her for a moment. It wasn't interesting, usually whoever they'd brought in was squirming and yelling for someone to talk to, not this guy, he was slumped over the desk sleeping.

"Jemma says you haven't stopped watching him since we brought him in two hours ago," he said. For a while, he didn't get a response, just the sound of the Bus's systems working in the hull around them. Eventually, Skye sucked in a breath of air and looked up.

"Yeah, well, I can't help but feel like I made a mistake," she said slowly.

"It happens, not often, but it happens, we'll work out the creases, don't worry,"

"Won't he, I don't know, say something about SHIELD?"

"He's sleeping right now, so I highly doubt it,"

"He was crying…"

"Crying? About what?"

"I don't know,"

"I didn't think being caught by us was traumatic, or is it?" he looked at her.

Skye smiled. "Could've been worse I suppose,"

Coulson shrugged.

"I wasn't shot in the back though,"

Coulson nodded. "I heard about that, we'll speak later about shooting civilians, how did you even get an ICER anyway?"

Skye blushed. "Took it off Ward when he wasn't looking,"

"Thought so," Coulson smiled.

"How are the Robinson's?" Skye decided to briefly change the topic. She figured it might help her relax a little.

"Alive, no one's been attacked,"

"What about the other two we looked into?"

"They're also unharmed, I've got agents stationed at both locations giving me hourly updates, we should be good,"

Skye nodded and looked back down at the feed. "So, what're we going to do with him?"

"Talk to him, firstly," Coulson answered. "If he is the killer, we need to know everything he does,"

"Such as?"

"Who he's working for; based on everything we know, he's a hitman, and hitmen work for people,"

"Right, you want to find the source,"

"Of course,"

Skye nodded her head. "I'd like to come in and talk to him too,"

"No,"

"I owe him an apology if he's innocent,"

"If he's innocent," Coulson reminded her.

"Please," Skye begged. "I've been watching him for two hours, I think it's more complicated with him than it seems,"

"Why'd you think that?"

"You didn't see him react when he woke up… There's something off about everything that's happened,"

"Like?"

"I don't know, something personal maybe,"

"Fine, but you stay back," Coulson pointed a finger at her as he picked up his pad and made for the interrogation room.

"Fine," she relented and followed him. "He managed to get the cuffs off, by the way,"

Coulson looked over his shoulder at her and frowned. "How?"

"No idea, but he's loose in there,"

"Great,"

* * *

Cyrus lifted his head slowly when the door to the little room opened. He was calmer now, somewhat. Two hours of mourning had done him a little bit of good. Two people walked in, one was a middle-aged man in a dark suit, he had a surprisingly kind face; the second person was Skye. His attention snapped to her as something inside him ignited again, he swallowed the lump in his throat then took a deep breath, calming the demon that bubbled away inside him, begging for him to let his guard down so he could hurt someone for his own satisfaction. He balled his fists tightly and pulled his eyes away from her, fixed them on Coulson. He couldn't look at Skye, but she wasn't to blame.

"Good evening, I'm Agent Phil Coulson," the older man introduced himself. Cyrus nodded in acknowledgment. "What's your name?"

Cyrus let out a soft breath, he felt like lying, he'd become quite good at it in two months, but there was no point now, there was nothing to cover up. "Cyrus Quinton,"

"Not Derrick Langstone, then?" Skye quirked a brow. Cyrus didn't smile, but he shook his head.

"No, not Derrick,"

"What were you doing at the school?"

"I was there on a job to kill Clive Robinson,"

"Caleb Robinson's son, why? He's only sixteen,"

"I was going to kill him because Caleb told me too," Cyrus said in an even tone.

"Caleb hired you to kill his own son?" Skye asked in disbelief. "Haven't you lied enough today?"

Cyrus said nothing.

"Easy Skye,"

"He tried to kill a child!" Skye exclaimed.

"Wasn't it you that said he was acting weird?" Coulson looked over his shoulder at her. She paled then nodded.

"Yeah, I guess I did,"

"There wasn't a choice in what I did," Cyrus interrupted. "I was being forced to do things I didn't want to,"

"How were you being forced?" Skye seemed to have taken over the interrogation now, she stood with her arms folded. Maybe she felt it necessary as she'd been the one that had shot him. He clenched his jaw.

"They had my sister, Jennifer," he answered, this time looking at her.

"Had? Past tense?" Coulson asked.

Cyrus nodded. "She's dead now,"

"They killed her?" Skye's arms fell to her sides, suddenly empathetic toward him.

"Caleb had her captured two months ago, used her to blackmail me into being his hitman, threatening to kill her if I didn't,"

"How did you know he wasn't bluffing?" Coulson frowned.

"He doesn't look like a man that would bluff, and I saw him have another person's incentive killed when they failed," Cyrus answered. "I only killed to keep Jennifer alive,"

"I'm so sorry," Skye whispered across the room.

Cyrus wanted to punch her in the face for what she'd done. "Someone was going to die anyway, you were doing your job just as much as I was doing mine,"

"You're sure this was Caleb?" Coulson asked.

He received a nod. "Yes. That twat you're protecting from me? He's given the kill order on every single person whose died at my hand and a bunch of other people he has tied,"

"My God," Skye muttered.

"I'm a loose end to him now, he'll send people to try and kill me,"

"How do you know that?"

"Because I've killed three of his former hitmen employees," Cyrus explained.

"They were in the same situation as you?"

"Once," he nodded. "He knows that once he's killed what ties us down, we have no reason to not tell anyone and everyone about him and what he does,"

"Lucky for you, you're here while he's in the hands of some of SHIELDs best agents,"

"You going to call in for his arrest?" Skye asked as Coulson moved to the door.

"Of course, move while we have the upper hand,"

"What happens to me?" Cyrus asked looking from one to the other. Skye looked over at Coulson.

"You stay here for now,"

"I can help you,"

"No. Knowing what you've endured I reckon you want him dead, besides, you're a murderer, we can't have you running around,"

Cyrus slumped.

Coulson left the room to make the appropriate strategic maneuver. Skye sat down in the chair opposite him and leaned on the table, she stared at his face for a moment, trying to read him.

"How did you do it?" she asked.

"What?" he frowned.

"Kill Kelsie Olaky," she told him.

There was a pause. "With a gun, I shot her in the chest,"

Skye chuckled slightly. "You're still lying. Look, we know what you've done, you've admitted it, now tell me how you killed Kelsie,"

He could hurt her. Right now. He could get up and have her on the floor in about five seconds. He could beat the crap out of her for shooting him. He could probably kill her before she had a proper chance to react. The opportunity was right here.

Deep down he didn't want to hurt her, but she was digging towards something he'd vowed never to speak of to anyone outside of Afterlife.

"Why are you asking?" he folded his arms. "She was alive, I shot her in the chest and left her, I don't know what you want me to say,"

Skye shrugged. "Just checking,"

"Right," Cyrus said doubtfully. "Checking what?"

"You said you've killed other people," her voice was gentle as she changed the subject. Considerate even.

He nodded his head and folded his arms. "Yeah,"

"How many?"

There was silence for a moment. "Four others,"

Skye stared at him, her eyes widening slightly. She looked down at the table, leaned back in her chair.

"I don't like thinking about it, all you need to know is that they were innocent and didn't deserve to die,"

"Sorry," she murmured. "And I'm sorry for getting your sister killed; you may not admit it out loud but… I know it was me,"

"I blame Caleb for everything," he told her.

"It- "

"Would you really have stopped me killing a child if you'd known they'd had my sister?"

She looked at him. Shrugged. "I… I don't know,"

"Exactly, just don't think about. I don't,"

A blatant lie. Anyone could've seen it, Skye did though she only nodded.

"I'm going to see if Coulson needs anything," She got to her feet. "Sit tight,"

* * *

Ward had just finished the errand of returning Caleb's son home and was pacing around the ground floor waiting for something to do when Caleb approached him. Ward folded his arms and nodded over at the boy, Clive.

"Your boy's safe,"

"No problems then?"

"Aside from one of my agents accidentally shooting a civilian," Ward shook his head.

"A civilian?"

"Yeah, we'll sort it out," Ward dismissed the subject. "We would've been prepared if there had been any problems,"

"I'm glad," he smiled insincerely. "If you'll excuse me I'm expecting a call,"

"I'll be around if you need anything,"

"Thanks,"

Ward watched him go with an amused frown on his face, normally he wouldn't but this time he shrugged it off and perused their family photos. Halfway along the mantlepiece, he got a call. It was Coulson.

"Sir?" Ward said stiffening.

"I'll explain everything when you get back but I need you to bring Caleb Robinson in and pull back all the agents we have,"

Ward frowned. "This'll be interesting,"

"Oh, it is,"

"The guy Skye shot, is this all from him?"

"Like I said, I'll explain when you're back,"

"Yes, sir,"

Ward relayed the orders to the other agents. However, as he approached Caleb's office his personal bodyguards stepped in.

"You can't enter his office," one of them said. Ward took a step back.

"Well I need to speak to him, could you get him," Ward told them.

"He's busy,"

"So are we,"

"What's this about?"

"It's between him and SHIELD," Ward answered.

The guards looked at him.

"He doesn't like being disturbed,"

"This is important, to do with his family and the killings, I'm sure he'll want to hear this,"

The guard eyed him once more then nodded. "I'll let him know,"

Ward nodded and waited. One of the guards slipped inside, the door opening enough for the agent to see inside. Caleb was hunched over his desk with a phone to his ear, he looked distressed. The door shut.

Ward huffed.

A few seconds later the door opened again and Caleb stepped out into the hallway.

"Agent Ward, you had something you needed to discuss with me?" his voice was wavering slightly.

"Yeah, we found the murderer," Ward told him. "We thought you might like to come along and see,"

Caleb shook his head. "I'm relieved that you managed to catch him but I have important business to attend to,"

"I'm afraid it's less of an offer," Ward grabbed the Engine CEO by the sleeve and pulled him towards the front door. Immediately the guards around the house came alive, their guns getting drawn and raised, the SHIELD agents did the same with their ICERs but their moment of hesitation to fire cost four of them their lives as the guards emptied their magazines first.

Ward ducked in surprise, dragging Caleb down beside him as he continued pushing for the front door. The two guards that had been by the office couldn't take a shot at him just yet as two agents had appeared at the other end of the hallway and were providing covering fire.

Upstairs there were screams from Caleb's son, barely audible above the noise of gunfire echoing around the house.

Eight guards. Eight agents.

Seven guards. Eight agents.

Six guards. Seven agents. One injured.

Four guards. Six agents. One injured.

Three guards. Six agents. One injured.

Ward pushed on. The two guards behind him were down which gave him a clear run for the door. Caleb wasn't putting up much of a fight as he was constantly off-balance by Ward hauling him along.

As he reached for the door, the ground floor front windows were blown inwards by some explosion from the driveway outside. The door crashed open into Ward's face seconds later, he roared in pain as his nose was broken and he was knocked backward to the ground. Dazed, blood running from his numbed nose and splotches of colour in his vision he was incapacitated and could only watch as ten heavily armed individuals stormed the house. Guns cracked loudly as gunfire erupted once more.

Ward rolled over onto his stomach and crawled for a gun that was lying a few feet away.

"Clear the house of SHIELD, get Caleb, his family and any of his guards out of here," a gruff voice said from the door.

Ward, still slightly disorientated, barely resisted as he was rolled onto his back and dragged away from the gun by his ankles. From what he'd heard being said they weren't any kind of special forces team. Ward felt a twang of fear. He held his hands up in surrender, lifting his head slightly to take in the scene around him. It seemed the agents that had been taking out Caleb's guards were all dead now. They were beaten.

Ten heavily armed highly, trained military personnel. Zero agents.

"Looks like we found ourselves one of Coulson's personal team members," the voice from the door said as they stepped over. Ward couldn't make the person's face out as they were wearing a military balaclava below a helmet and goggles.

"Need him, sir?" the special forces look-alike asked, his assault rifle lowering. The gruff-voiced soldier chuckled for a second and stepped up to his head. Ward's eyes widened when he saw the pistol aimed at his face.

"Nope," was the grunted answer.

Ward's head jerked back onto the wooden flooring as the bullet entered his skull.


	8. A Desperate Decision

**A/N: (Update: I've added a bit more in the few hours since the update as there were some gaps that I felt needed filling so the story didn't jump around too much, this bit was also needed to introduce some extra characters for later.)**

 **The chapter's still a little sketchy and I don't think it carries the story forwards in the way I want it to so it might get changed. The reason it's not been done now is that some ideas have come flooding for the next couple of chapters and I needed to get them down.**

 **Finally, thanks for reading if you've slugged it out this far.**

* * *

Chapter Seven: A Desperate Decision

When Grant Ward still hadn't returned with Caleb an hour later, it was Melinda May that had been sent in to find out why.

What she found was something even she couldn't stomach.

As she'd approached the house, she'd spotted the lower front windows had been blown inwards and that the front door was ajar.

Instinctively she drew her ICER, pressed a finger to her ear communicator and called in the situation.

"Something's wrong here, Coulson, looks like there was a gunfight,"

"Dammit, find Ward and the other agents if it's clear, I'm having some reinforcements head there now,"

"Copy that," May kept her ICER poised and ready to fire as she stalked towards the door in her heeled boots. Her eyes darted left and right between what was left of the windows. She listened carefully, couldn't hear any noise; it was eerily quiet.

May pressed herself against the doorframe and peered through the crack in the door. She couldn't see much aside from the dark flooring and a hallway table that looked pretty shot up. She reached out with a hand and gently pushed the door open a foot more. More bullet holes, all peppering the wall at chest or head height.

A grim feeling coursed through the agent as she put a foot over the threshold and into the house. Her eyes widened in surprise as her foot gave slightly on something viscous. Her head jerked downwards and she was mortified to see that the floor wasn't a red mahogany colour at all. It was covered in blood. She seized up for a moment, touched her ear again.

"Coulson, we have a big problem,"

"What is it?"

May, carefully moving her feet so as not to slip, entered the house fully. She spotted bodies lying in crumpled heaps. Finding a spot on in the hallway void of blood, May lowered her ICER and looked around properly.

"Three bodies so far and-" her eyes fell on a tall person clad in black operations uniform complete with the vest and thigh holsters. "Oh God,"

"May? What is it? Where's Ward and Mr. Robinson?"

For a while all May did was breath heavily her eyes fixated on the unnatural positioning of Ward's body. Whoever had killed him had thought it funny to move his limbs around so it looked like he was doing a ballet spin.

"May? What's happening?" Coulson's voice broke over the channel again.

May's heart was racing. She took a short breath.

"It's Ward… He's…" she composed herself, just enough to deliver what she was seeing. "Ward's dead, sir,"

"What?" Coulson's voice was pained.

He didn't get a reply for a moment. May must've been pretty shaken up.

"All the agents we had stationed here are dead, some of Caleb's personal security is here too," May explained the scene. "I'm not sure what went down but SHIELD was taken by surprise,"

She heard Coulson punched something. Probably a table.

"Orders, sir?" May said evenly, though her lip was quivering and her gaze was completely on Ward.

"I'm- We need to- I'll have a clean-up team sent," he said finally. "… Just get out of there for now," his voice was heavy.

"Yes, sir…" May holstered her ICER and left the house.

"I'll tell everyone what's happened once you're back," Coulson finished.

"I'll be back shortly," May clicked off.

She took three short breaths, then darted over to the side and vomited against the wall. She leaned hard on the wall with her hands as her stomach emptied itself. Better to let it all out now when no one was around, she'd have to keep a strong face back on the Bus when everyone found out, needed to keep an example. Skye would be crushed. Fitz equally as much. She sighed and shook her head. Scraping her hair back off her face as she straightened, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and went back to the SUV. She didn't want to leave Ward's body like that but he'd be transported back to the Bus. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

* * *

Coulson leaned heavily on the table, hearing Ward was dead had hit him hard. He'd grown close to Ward, relied on him a lot, needed him to protect the others, needed his insight into certain things. He thought of the others, how they'd take hearing that he was dead; not well was his best guest. Despite all the arguing and tension, they'd all grown very close. Family close.

"Coulson?" Skye asked, confusion in her voice. He abruptly straightened and looked at her. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he nodded. "Get anything more from him?"

"No," she shook her head. "I was just wondering if you wanted me to move him for when Ward brings Caleb in,"

Coulson blinked. Contemplating it for a moment he shook his head. "No, leave him there,"

"Sure," she nodded. Eyed him carefully. "You sure you're okay?"

"Tell Fitz-Simmons I want them up here when May gets back,"

"Uh, avoiding the question much,"

Coulson eyeballed her. "Just do as I say,"

He picked up his pad and headed towards his office. Skye watched him disappear up the steps, her face was contorted in confusion once more. She shrugged it off and headed down to the lab, the scientists were hunched over a small device, Jemma reached forwards with a hand only to have her hand slapped away by Fitz who yelped at her.

With a smirk on her face, Skye rapped her knuckles on the glass of the door. They both shut up and looked over in unison. Jemma smiled, Fitz looked surprised to see her in the belly of the plane. Jemma wandered over and let her in.

"Hi, Skye," she smiled again.

"Hey, Jemma," she looked at the engineer. "Fitz,"

He nodded his head.

"Can we help you with something or are you bored?"

Skye wandered in and looked at the object they were working on. "Just stopping by to tell you that Coulson wants you upstairs once May gets back with Ward,"

"They want to bring Caleb here?" Fitz raised a brow.

"According to Cyrus he's the one behind all the murders,"

"The CEO of Engine is killing people?" Jemma gawked.

"No, that's not what I meant, I mean Caleb was forcing Cyrus to kill people for him,"

"You can't force someone to kill," Fitz dismissed the idea and went back to the device. "Sounds like something a murderer would say,"

"They had his sister,"

"Oh," Fitz looked at her, then down at the floor.

"You said had. Is she free? Did we free her?" Jemma bombarded.

"He says his sister was murdered,"

"Oh dear," Jemma's voice quietened.

"He saw?" Fitz asked.

"He's got a pretty good idea of what happened when he didn't kill Caleb's son," Skye replied.

"Wait, Caleb ordered him to kill his own son?" Jemma frowned.

"I told you he was lying!" Fitz piped up. "No one would order someone to kill their own son," he looked from Jemma to Skye. "Right?"

Skye shrugged heavily. "Who knows,"

"You believe him?"

"He doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would lie about something like that," Skye told them. "I think he's hiding something though,"

Fitz made a face. "Like?"

"Well, you know how you said you found carbon in Kelsie's lungs?" Skye spoke to Jemma.

"Quite vividly yes,"

"I asked him about that,"

Jemma brightened. "Did he tell you?"

"Nope, he stuck to the story that he shot her in the chest,"

"Something else killed Kelsie, and if he's so sure he killed her that night, he's definitely lying,"

"Told you," Fitz said as he welded something inside the little device.

"What is that?" Skye pointed to the thing. Fitz straightened and gestured elaborately at the metal ball.

"This is a state of the art upgrade to the DWARFs," he explained. "More durable and has an added taser capability,"

"Why on Earth would you need that on a recon drone?" Skye asked.

"In case someone needs to be tased from a distance…. Obviously,"

Jemma's head shifted towards the ramp.

"Oh, May's back,"

Skye and Fitz turned to look at her. Sure enough, the agent was ascending the ramp. The three of them moved towards her, glancing around for Ward and Caleb.

"Where's Ward?" Skye asked.

"Upstairs in the lounge, all of you, now," was all she got in response before the agent hurried up the stairwell and out of sight.

"Well… Something's wrong," Fitz murmured.

* * *

Coulson and May came and joined the three of them a minute after they'd settled on the sofas. From their expressions, it was clear that something had gone horribly wrong. And given that Ward wasn't present made all their stomachs feel like bottomless pits. Coulson was holding his pad, moving it around constantly, agitatedly, using it to distract himself slightly.

"There's no easy way to say this," he started. May was like a statue beside him. "A little while ago we got some intelligence that Caleb was the man behind the murders, as a result, I contacted Agent Ward and told him to bring Mr. Robinson in,"

He took a breath.

Skye's heart had already sunk. She knew exactly what he was going to say. The way he stood, the way he spoke and the way he looked none of them in the eye.

"Unfortunately, while he was in the process of carrying out his orders, someone else, either a third party or allies to Caleb Robinson, arrived and killed the twelve agents we had stationed along with Agent Ward,"

Silence.

Skye got up and went to her bunk. She sealed the door behind her and cried. Loud enough for everyone to hear. Coulson just stared at the ground. Jemma and Fitz sat frozen with shock, registering what they'd been told.

"You're joking," Fitz looked up at them.

"I wish that were the case," Coulson said quietly.

"He can't be dead, I mean it's Ward, he can't be… Dead," Fitz got to his feet and wandered back towards the lab, his hands on his head muttering to himself in denial. Jemma was still sat, eyes forwards, hands in her lap.

"Jemma?" Coulson asked softly.

She inhaled deeply. "I'll be fine, sir," she looked up at him.

With that, she got up and followed Fitz.

* * *

Coulson leaned backward on his desk and looked at May who was stood at ease a few feet in front of him, he wasn't sure what their next move should be. The specialist mulled over options in her head for a few minutes, there weren't any leads to follow while they waited for the results from Caleb's home.

"What can we do?" she asked eventually.

"Not much, but we do have one lead," he replied.

May regarded him for a moment, caught on to his idea and shook her head.

"That is a very bad idea," she warned him.

"Is it?" he huffed. "I don't like sitting on my ass doing nothing,"

"Rather that than blindly chase ghosts,"

"What if he's telling the truth?" he held out his arms. "Skye seems to believe him,"

"Skye's still new to this,"

"She worked for the Rising Tide, they don't seem like the people who would fall for anything,"

"Say he is telling the truth, then what?"

"That depends on what we find at the house,"

"I don't like this,"

"I don't expect you to like it, but we need to find who killed Ward,"

"We'll get them in time, Coulson, don't worry,"

"We need to get them now, May, I don't want anyone else getting hurt," his hands balled into fists. "Goddamit,"

"Take it easy," May came forward and gripped his shoulder. "Just breath,"

Coulson nodded his head. He needed to stay calm, otherwise May wouldn't think it wise he heads out on the next mission he had laid out for them.

"Does it bug you at all that Caleb's house was clean?" he asked eventually.

"Maybe Caleb _is_ clean," May offered, folding her arms.

"Then why did whoever kill Ward take him and his family?"

May fell silent. Opened her mouth then shut it again, stumped. "I don't know, maybe they need something from Engine and planned on using his family as leverage,"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "You're probably right, May, but I'm itching to know the truth and this secret house Cyrus talked about seems to be the first step to it,"

"Speaking of, what about the prisoner?"

"What about him?"

"What do we do with him? I'm not comfortable leaving him on the plane,"

"Neither am I, that's why we'll bring him with us, we'll need him anyway to find the house,"

"I don't like this," May said again.

Coulson smiled slightly. "I know,"

May made a noise then reluctantly nodded. She trusted Coulson's judgment. "He tries _anything_ and I get to shoot him,"

"Granted," he nodded, though it hadn't been a question.

"Still... Doesn't put me at ease,"

"I figured it wouldn't, which is why I took the liberty of getting us some extra feet,"

May frowned. "You had every intention of finding this house anyway, didn't you?"

Coulson nodded guiltily. "Afraid so,"

"Dammit Coulson," May grumbled, she held back on telling him off. "Who'd you call in?"

"Hunter and Mack, seeing as they're the only two of the ones I know we can really on that are available,"

"Bobbi's on a mission?"

"As far as I'm aware,"

"Shame, Hunter always got on my nerves,"

"He's a good agent,"

"If you say so," May smirked. "How long for them to reach us?"

"An hour tops,"

May nodded.

"We'll gather the team when they arrive, hopefully, they'll be a little clear headed by then,"

"It's risky, none of them have experience with all this,"

"They're good agents, they'll pull through, I know it, especially if it involves finding the asshole that killed Ward,"

May looked at him uncertainly.

"Once they're out their they'll be okay, I promise,"

Though he himself had his doubts.

* * *

Cyrus was left sitting for hours in the interrogation room, remaining bound to the table meant he had a terrible cramp in his arse. His patience had ebbed away to impatience, then the impatience to irritation, and now, finally, worry. He looked down at his hands, wiggled his fingers, twisted them back and forth. He could break out, nice and easy, within a split second, he'd done it earlier, flailed his hands and made it look like the magician's trick. The camera wouldn't pick it up, not beneath the table, but doing it again would make them suspicious and he wanted their help. He hated to admit it, but having killed people, innocent people, he doubted he'd be getting out of here unless he struck some kind of deal with them. If he could convince them into letting him take them to the house where Caleb ran everything, he'd be a shoe in.

The door opened.

It was Coulson and May.

"You're coming with us,"

Cyrus blinked.

 _Bingo._

He eyed them, something was off, they sounded subdued like something had happened. He gave it a moment then nodded.

"Okay,"

Now didn't seem like the time to make a snide comment.

"Took us a while to come to this decision, none of us can trust a word that comes out of your mouth but right now you're the only lead we have on finding out what happened to Ward,"

"Ward?" he quirked a brow.

"Yes, one of my agents is dead and you're the only lead we have left," Coulson snapped at him.

There was a pause.

"Sorry for your-"

"I don't want your apology I need to pick your brain," Coulson cut him off abruptly.

"So, you want me to take you to the house?"

"Don't take this as a sign of trust, I blame you for what happened," Coulson told him.

Cyrus didn't want to argue, verbally displays of anger weren't his thing. Though that was mainly because he could never whip up a strong valid argument on the spot like other people could, unless they were jabbering on about something completely absurd.

"It's partly my fault too, I shouldn't have listened to you in the first place, it was such a far-fetched story, your sister, Caleb holding her hostage," Coulson shook his head. Losing Ward had really rattled the man, Cyrus could tell, he knew the feeling, only, instead of blaming the nearest person, he was letting it boil away inside him.

May uncuffed him, pulled him to his feet. He held his hands out for her to re-cuff him. She didn't. He looked at her curiously. She didn't give him anything, he looked at Coulson.

"Try anything, we'll shoot you,"

"Understood,"

He filed out behind May and in front of Coulson. He followed them to an oval room with a large TV and a holotable in the middle, Skye was there with two other people he hadn't met before. They hardly looked at him as he was stood at the back with May pressed against him to make sure he didn't do anything.

 _Cosy._

Coulson started talking.

"Ward's dead, we need to find the person who did it and Cyrus here is going to start us off,"

All eyes turned to him. He stared back.

"Where's the house?" Coulson asked.

"I don't know the address, it's secluded, but I can show it to you on the map,"

"I need you with us, there's no one left here to keep an eye on you,"

"Right,"

"Like I said, any funny business, we shoot you,"

Cyrus nodded back.

"Ready up," Coulson told the others.

May gave him a nudge, he stepped to the left, instantly a hand gripped the back of his jumper and dragged him to the right towards the back of the plane, it was here that she dumped him into the passenger seat of an SUV and left. He stayed sat there for five minutes before Skye bundled into the seat behind him, her cheeks were flushed and wet with tears but she kept a straight face and only sniffed a couple of times before falling silent. Despite a nagging in his head to ask if she was okay, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut and his eyes forward. Beside her, having slipped in almost silently, was Jemma, she didn't seem quite as bad as Skye but maybe that was because she was better at suppressing it. May was last and climbed in behind the wheel.

"Where to?" she asked as she started the car's engine.

Cyrus pointed out of the plane and onto the tarmac.

"Forward," he said.

As May accelerated out of the plane all Cyrus could think about was what they'd find.


	9. Cabin At The Edge Of Town

**A/N: Apologies that it's been a while since the last update, there was some stuff I had to take care of over the last couple of months, but here's the next chapter.**

Chapter Eight: Cabin At The Edge Of Town

"I heard what happened to Ward," Mack said as he guided the SUV North down the highway behind a large family car. "I'm sorry,"

Coulson looked at the man and nodded his head slowly. "It's been hard on all of us, it's why we have to do this,"

"I didn't know him that well," Lance Hunter chipped in from the back seat, despite having called shotgun, Coulson had asked Mack to drive which meant he'd been forced to sit in the back with Fitz.

"He was a damn good agent,"

Mack nodded. "We'll find whoever did this,"

"I plan to,"

Fitz stayed silent the whole time, he stared out the window watching the scenery go racing passed as Mack accelerated faster and faster.

"So who is this guy that Skye shot?" asked Hunter as leaned forward from the back seat.

"Not really sure, his name's Cyrus Quinton and he says he was Caleb Robinson's lapdog for a while because his sister was being held hostage," answered Coulson.

"The guy in charge of Engine?" Mack asked.

"The very same,"

"Damn,"

Hunter looked at Mack for a moment, annoyed he'd interrupted.

"And, what? You don't believe that?" he continued.

"I don't," murmured Fitz. Hunter turned his head to look at him for a moment.

"I don't trust him, but he's all we have right now," Coulson responded.

"Where are we heading anyway?" Mack's deep voice asked.

"Not really sure, he doesn't know the address but can get to it from memory, judging by our direction Saratoga Springs doesn't seem far-fetched,"

"He's walking us into a trap, I know he is," Fitz murmured. "And Jemma's in that car,"

"What exactly is it he's done that we don't like?" Hunter's tone was confused, he looked from Coulson to Fitz.

"He's a murderer," Fitz told him.

"Right, but if I remember correctly everyone here, aside from you has killed someone at some point,"

"He's killed people that didn't deserve to die," Coulson said.

"In a terrorism kind of way?"

"In a hitman kind of way,"

"So have I," Hunter frowned not seeing the problem.

"I know, I have your file, you took down HVTs for the SAS, what this guy did was murder innocent people on their ways home from work,"

"Fair enough, but can you really blame him for protecting his sister?"

"That's the problem Hunter, we've no proof he even has a sister,"

"Ah," he slumped backward and folded his arms. "So this could be a trap?"

"Could be,"

"Good, I haven't shot anyone in a while,"

"If this is a trap you might not ever get the chance," Mack looked at him through the rear-view mirror.

"Well, aren't you brimming with optimism?" the ex-mercenary mused.

* * *

May pulled the car up to the bottom of the gravel driveway. The ride down had been silent, Skye had tried to make some conversation but not even Jemma had engaged with her. It was unsurprising, no one in the vehicle was fit for this mission, SHIELD agent and murderer alike. Skye reached for the door latch then stopped when she realised she was the only one moving. She looked over at Jemma who let out a shallow breath then looked back at her in return with an uneasy smile on her face.

"Let's just get this over with," she said in a soft tone laced with irritation before climbing out of the car.

"You okay?" May asked Cyrus out of habit rather than concern, she didn't much care about him, not when she had no reason to like him. He nodded slowly.

"Yeah, just, uh, psyching myself up for whatever's in there,"

"Don't think too hard," May told him.

"You ever… You know, lost someone?" Cyrus asked quietly.

May eyed him daringly.

His eyes widened a little and he cowered in his seat as he explained himself. "I'm not- I'm just looking for a bit of advice,"

Still, May said nothing. Cyrus sighed, straightened again.

"Does it get any easier?" he persisted quietly.

May shook her head. "No,"

Skye leaned forward and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, he squirmed slightly. He felt sick at the thought of what might await him. It couldn't be worse than what he'd imagined. With nothing more to say he got out of the car.

"Skye, grab the vests," May instructed as they gathered in wait for Coulson to arrive. Skye did her job less than gracefully, carrying four Kevlar vests and closing the boot of the car was difficult, Cyrus made to help her but Jemma moved first so he stopped and just watched as the two girls shared the weight and slammed the boot shut together.

Jemma veered away from him toward May.

 _Scared or doesn't she trust me?_

Skye watched the biochemist for a moment then came over to him.

"Here," Skye said, handing him one of the two remaining vests she had. He looked down at the black fabric and noticed the SHIELD logo emblazoned dead center on the chest.

 _Talk about a bullseye._

 _Better they hit the bullseye than your face._

"Thanks," he responded and started putting it on.

Coulson and Fitz, Cyrus noticed, were accompanied by two men he hadn't met before. They both eyed him as he approached. The shorter one whispered something up to the taller one who nodded in agreement. They didn't look too friendly so Cyrus kept his distance and listened to what Coulson was going to say. The older agent checked his gun, spotted what looked like a gravel driveway then looked up at them, his gaze settling on Cyrus.

"What should we expect?"

"Guards, lots of them," Cyrus replied then frowned and looked around. "last time I was here there were two guards,"

"You're telling us that now?" May hissed.

"I forgot, not exactly where my mind's at right now,"

"Well get it here or-"

"It doesn't matter," Coulson stopped her. "This gives us the upper hand, let's use it, what else can you tell us?"

"That's it, just guards, some outside, some inside, they patrol around,"

"Weapons?"

"Pistols of some kind," Cyrus replied. "He has some working staff and the second floor of the house is where he keeps everyone,"

"Okay," he paused for a moment in thought. "Two teams of four, Mack and Jemma you're with me and Cyrus,"

Cyrus drifted a couple of steps to the right towards his group. He felt like he was in school, getting chosen onto a team during break time.

"No," Fitz interjected. Everyone looked at him. "I don't- I don't want Jemma with him, I'll go with you,"

Cyrus blinked. Looked from Fitz to Jemma then back again.

 _Ah. I see. Cute._

Slowly, Coulson nodded. "Alright, Fitz with us, Skye, May, Hunter, and Jemma. You'll take the left side, we'll take the right; if you see any guards, drop them with your ICERs,"

May nodded.

"Get as close as you can to the house while in cover, I don't want anyone seen," Coulson continued. "If we're made we regroup here,"

"And retreat, right?" Mack asked.

"No, we make our stand,"

"Damn," Mack whispered to himself as he loaded his shotgun and checked his own ICER.

"I could walk up there," Cyrus offered. "Caleb doesn't know you guys caught me, he might think I just didn't kill his son,"

"No," Coulson shook his head. "You don't leave my sight, besides, he might find it suspicious you came back if you know he's just going to kill you,"

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"No," Coulson said again. "You're staying with me,"

Cyrus nodded.

"Okay, everyone ready? Let's move,"

* * *

The two teams followed the driveway on its twisting journey to the front of the house. They all kept just beyond the treeline and moved slowly, eyes darting back and forth checking for movement. They all jumped at the sound or sight of a squirrel or bird scrambling through the undergrowth. Any other situation and there was no doubt there'd be some laughs and light banter but right now their lives were on the line if they screwed up, even a little bit. None of Coulson's team said a word the whole time, their hearts in their mouths as they progressed, their breathing heavy and their nerves jittery.

Eventually, they came to a stop as a treeline ahead of them indicated they'd made it. They formed a line and all looked at the house.

It was exactly as Cyrus remembered, large and wooden with plenty of windows, it even looked as though it'd been freshly oiled in the day since he'd been there. His eyes roved the windows individually, checking for movement. Speaking of, he noticed there were zero guards patrolling the porch that spanned the front of the house. Also missing were the two cars, a black Mercedes and silver four-by-four that usually sat in the front. He frowned. Coulson picked up on it immediately.

"Speak to me," he whispered. Cyrus turned his head in surprise, as did the other two. "What are you seeing?"

"It's what I'm not seeing,"

"Guards?" Mack guessed accurately.

"And the cars,"

"Cars?"

"Yeah, two of them, usually sit side by side at the front of the house," he gestured with a hand at the far side of the house where May's group would roughly be.

"So, no one's home," Fitz said, moving the large black case he'd brought with him like an impatient child.

"I'm pretty sure Caleb leaves guards here at all time for the hostages, which means he'd have to leave a car or two as well,"

"Or they bring the car when they change the guards,"

"Maybe," Cyrus shrugged.

"So how do you want to do this?" Mack asked.

"We'll move to the sides of the house, make our way to the front doors, then we'll breach," Coulson replied. "I need to check in with May first,"

* * *

May touched her earpiece when it beeped. She heard Coulson take a breath before he started talking.

"May, you in position?"

"Yes," she answered. "Skye spotted a side door here where the porch wraps around the front,"

"Perfect, you'll breach from there, we'll take the front,"

"Copt that," May affirmed. "It's looking deserted, sir,"

"Cyrus has a similar thought," Coulson told her. "Stay alert, this could still be a trap,"

"Understood, see you inside,"

She clicked off and looked at the other three.

"We taking the side door?" Skye asked.

She received a nod. Jemma looked at the ground worried, May looked at her. "Jemma?"

"Yes?" she looked up, the smile on her face forced.

"Are you alright?"

"Um, I'm not sure, I've not breached into a house before…"

"It'll be fine, just stay behind us and shoot anything that isn't one of us,"

Briefly, the thought of shooting Cyrus crossed her mind. "If you say so," she nodded.

"Has she even shot a gun before?" Hunter asked, worry washing over his own face.

"Yes,"

"Is she any good?" his eyes widened in anticipation of the answer.

"She's good enough," Skye said. Hunter looked like he was about to have a panic attack.

"We need people that we can rely on to hit the shots,"

"Jemma can do that," Skye said.

"You can wait it out if you want," May looked at the biochemist.

"No, no," she took a deep breath. "I'm ready,"

"Oh, bloody hell," Hunter muttered as they headed for the side of the house. They saw Coulson and the others moving from around the other side of the house towards the front door.

The four of them stacked up, two on each side. May tapped her earpiece.

"Coulson, we're in position,"

"Copy that, on three," Coulson responded.

May looked at Hunter.

"Three,"

Hunter nodded.

"Two,"

All four of them gripped their ICERs a little tighter.

"One,"

In unison, May and Hunter stepped away from the wall and took a lunging step toward the side doors while bringing their other leg up.

"Breach," Coulson finished.

Four boots crashed into the wood of the doors and splintered them open. Eight bodies entered the house. Seven guns swept back and forth.

"Clear," Coulson declared once they'd searched the entirety of the ground floor. "Mack, May and Hunter check the second floor and any others,"

Cyrus still stood near the door, his eyes darting back and forth at all the empty space. Everything had been cleared out, the wooden flooring had all been waxed and it smelt like lemon. Caleb had had the entire place wiped clean. Slowly he wandered into the dining room, it was all gone. The mahogany table and matching chairs, the trophy and alcohol cabinets, even the stupid orange light shades that he hated had been taken. Someone entered the room behind him.

"Was it this empty when you came?" Coulson asked him.

"No," Cyrus shook his head, paused. "Caleb had a lot of cabinets and paintings, had a mahogany table in here too,"

"Well, it's all gone,"

"Yeah,"

"Think they knew you were caught?"

"I-" he shrugged. He didn't know anymore. But if this didn't prove Caleb was hiding something he didn't know what did. Mack entered the room.

"It's all clear, sir," he said, he looked around the room for a moment a doubtful expression on his face. "The whole place is empty,"

Coulson nodded and looked back at Cyrus.

"This sucks a bit for you,"

"Why?"

"Because it doesn't prove Caleb was behind any of this,"

Not the line he was hoping to hear given the circumstances.

"He gets kidnapped and this place gets erased," Cyrus growled. "That's not a coincidence,"

"Sir?" Fitz yelled in surprise and cut the beginning of an argument short.

"Fitz?" Coulson turned and hurried from the room. Cyrus followed slowly. SHIELD wasn't taking this seriously, if they didn't believe Caleb was the cause of all this then they weren't any help to him. He had to get away.

"There's something here," Fitz said with excitement, Jemma loomed over his shoulder. The control pad for the drones was showing a hollow opening behind a bit of wall beneath the stairs.

"What is it?"

"Not really sure, some kind of shaft, drones can't read it from this side," Jemma chipped in.

"That's the basement," Cyrus told them.

"What?" Fitz frowned. "There's no door, let alone a handle,"

"You sure?" Coulson asked.

"Yeah, it opens inward on hinges, mechanised I think, and there's a concrete bunker type thing at the bottom,"

"You've been in there?"

Cyrus nodded slowly. "Once,"

"How do we get in? Is there a control panel or something?"

He received a shrug. Coulson looked at Fitz.

"Use the drones, check all the rooms, get us in there,"

"If I can't?"

"Then we'll tear it down,"

Mack tested the wall's material with his knuckles. Metal. A fairly thin sheet, but when he pressed against it, it didn't yield.

"Might need to use the explosives,"

"Whatever gets it open," Coulson said. "There may well be answers down there,"

* * *

"Got it," Fitz grinned about six minutes later. Once he'd found the keypad in the office at the back of the house, getting the basement door open had been easy. Coulson came over and peered down the short descent, the inky black hid the bottom from his view so he gave Cyrus a quizzical look.

"Well? How far down is it?"

"Four meters, maybe five," was the response.

"What's it used for?"

Cyrus seized up a little and his expression went blank for a moment. All he could think about was Jennifer's body lying in the center of that room with a single pistol shell somewhere nearby. He felt bile rising in his throat.

"Cyrus?" Skye stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He blinked back to his senses.

"It's a slaughterhouse," he said finally. "You fuck up... That's where whoever they're using as leverage goes to die,"

"How often?"

Cyrus locked eyes with the agent.

"As often as people screw up a job,"

"I don't like this," Mack said.

"Neither do I, but we say that a fair bit," Coulson shrugged, he looked around at the five standing around him. "So, who's going down first?"

"I'm not setting foot down there ever again," Cyrus said grimly.

"You don't have a choice," Mack growled at him.

"I'm not a SHIELD agent, you can't order me about,"

Mack advanced on him. "Maybe not, but there's nothing saying I can't make you,"

"Easy, big guy," Skye said stepping between them. "I'll keep an eye on him while you go down,"

Coulson looked at Skye. He didn't like that, leaving her by herself with Cyrus, but she was pretty adamant that Cyrus was only committing crimes to keep his sister alive. Not that that excused his actions. He was still a murderer.

"Um..." Coulson looked up at Mack.

"I don't really feel like going down there anyway," she added.

"May can watch him, I might need your help," Coulson said.

"Sir, I can take care of myself," Mild irritation in her voice. "If he does anything, I'll ice him,"

Coulson still wasn't sure but he nodded at her anyway as he gestured for Mack to descend first. Skye wasn't inept at defending herself but Ward hadn't been able to impart much tactical knowledge in the short time he'd been her SO which meant he considered her to be vulnerable. Still, she was as stubborn as May so there'd be no changing her mind.

"Alright," he said in a displeased tone.

"Alright," Skye repeated with a shrug and looked over at Cyrus who was facing the other way.

* * *

Coulson climbed down the ladder after Jemma where he stepped into a low ceilinged bunker. It was bare, concrete floors smeared with darkened stains that were ambiguous as to whether or not it was blood, everything was partially illuminated by naked wall mounted bulbs that looked like they were about to go out at any second. It didn't smell pleasant either, a pungent, dead odor permeated in waves.

"Oh man," Mack breathed heavily.

"What?" Coulson looked at him then followed his gaze. His face fell when he spotted a body propped in the corner with their head drooping to one side. Jemma covered her mouth and looked away, Fitz groaned through pursed lips.

"Third body in two days," he murmured in disbelief.

"Well, it's not Cyrus' sister," Coulson said.

"Unless he's lying about that," Mack reminded him.

"Mmm," Coulson nodded. "Look around for anything else that might be useful,"

"Like?"

"Not really sure," Coulson looked back at the body. "We're also going to need to figure out who this person is,"

"I'll, uh, go and get my kit from upstairs," Jemma said.

* * *

Skye followed Cyrus into what had been the dining room, she read the discomfort on his face as he watched the others disappear down into the basement, then stepped into his view, a soft smile on her face. He was chewing the inside of his cheek nervously.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Not really," he fidgeted on the spot. "I'm worried they'll come back and say they found her body down there or something,"

Skye wasn't sure how to respond. She just looked at him, his eyes betraying what his face did so well to hide.

"What was she like?"

Cyrus looked at her now. "Jennifer?"

"Yeah, what was she like?"

"Mischevious," he let a smile play across his lips slightly, sighed. "Why?"

"I just... I don't know, seemed like the right thing to ask,"

"If I don't end up in jail or dead, maybe I'll tell you about her," he shrugged.

"Here's hoping," Skye smiled.

"Yeah, here's-" he saw someone appear at the window. Without a second of thought, he shoved Skye to the side as the window smashed and a volley of bullets bit through his Kevlar vest and into his chest and stomach. He was hurled backward onto the floor where he landed heavily, sprawled and cried out. Skye scrambled over to him on her hands and knees.

"Cyrus!" she screamed while pressing her hands over as many of the wounds as possible. Cyrus was barely moving, his leg twitched but he made no effort to help himself.

"Look out," he hissed weakly. Skye turned too late and a pair of hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her away from him. "Shit..."

"Coulson!" Skye screamed while wriggling as she was dragged from the house.

Cyrus started blacking out, his head felt light and he could tell the colour had drained from his face. He couldn't even watch properly as the young agent was hauled to her feet and out of the house. As he lay dying, he heard a series of smashes that echoed around in his head, then he smelt burning. They'd started a fire. They wanted to burn the house down.

Cyrus smiled.

 _Good._

* * *

May and Hunter heard the gunshots followed by Skye's screams and came running to the top of the stairs.

"Skye!" May yelled down.

A spray of suppressive fire kept her from descending the stairs and it wasn't long before she could hear a fire crackling. She blinked in surprise; the second the gunfire stopped she bolted down the stairs and out of the front door. She shot the masked individual that had kept them pinned down in the back of the head, he dropped like a stone. Seconds later and an armoured van came crashing from the treeline to the right and went racing up the gravel drive towards the main road. Normally, May would've given chase, but with only an ICER there was nothing she could do. She rushed back into the house where the fire had fully engulfed the living and dining rooms.

Hunter was already at the top of the ladder to the basement.

"You guys need to get out of there right now!" he yelled into the hole, Jemma's head poked out and he jumped back in surprise. "Bloody hell,"

"What's happening?" Jemma asked as she climbed out and straightened. "I heard shooting and Skye,"

"Place is on fire and Skye's been taken,"

"Taken?"

Something crashed in the dining room.

"Yes, kidnapped, removed from premises without her consent, whatever takes your fancy," Hunter snapped.

Coulson climbed out next in a hurry and looked around at the carnage. The smoke was thick now and they all covered their faces and ducked low to avoid inhaling too much.

"Skye's-" Hunter went to repeat.

"I heard... Where's Cyrus?" Coulson demanded angrily.

"Uh," Hunter shrugged.

Jemma flapped a hand frantically and pointed into the dining room. Coulson moved over to her and looked. His eyes widened at seeing the young man trapped beneath a smoldering wooden beam with the rest of the room ablaze around him.

"Cyrus!" he yelled. Waited. No response. "We need to get him out,"

"We can't it's too dangerous, this whole place is going to come down on us!" May told him while tugging at his jacket.

"We can't-"

Another beam fell, this time crashing onto the staircase. Everyone dived towards the front door. Fitz herding Jemma from the house as fast as possible with Mack in tow. Hunter wasn't far behind. As Coulson finally started to turn himself away to make a run for it, he felt sure he saw the smoke congregate on the ceiling above Cyrus' supposed lifeless body, but before he could get another look, May had dragged him outside.


	10. Blue Skye

**AN: I apologise again for the long delay with this chapter but I've been keeping myself atop some university work hence this has taken so long. Here is the latest chapter, I hope you all enjoy.**

* * *

Chapter Nine: Blue Skye

Skye fought whoever was dragging her the whole time, she kicked and wriggled as hard as she could but a blow to the back of her head dazed her long enough for her captors to throw her into the back of an armoured vehicle and handcuff her. Her mind fell to Cyrus, his bleeding body, peppered with holes from bullets that had gone straight through his vest like it was paper. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head to get the image out but it was no use, her hands were still slick with Cyrus' blood, the coppery smell invaded her nostrils and made her feel sick. With a gasp of sudden panic, she slipped to the side onto her elbow and tried wiping it off on the floor of the van.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" one of the operatives growled as he grabbed her wrists and shoved her upright. She struggled in his grip.

"Let go," she sobbed.

The operative shoved her back into the wall. "You'd best sit quietly or I will hurt you,"

Skye ignored him and leaned over again, this time to vomit in the corner.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," one of the operatives groaned in disgust.

When she sat up, she was crying, silently, lips quivering and tears running down her face. She stared down once more at the drying blood on her hands and sucked in a deep breath to calm herself, more bile rose in her throat but she forced it back down.

Everything had happened so fast, one minute she was trying to understand Cyrus, get in his head, get to know him, and the next she was watching him die. Her gut itched from where she herself had been shot, luckily for her, she'd only received two bullets and had had friends willing to sacrifice everything to see her better again. Cyrus had had none of that, none of the team trusted him, they blamed him for Ward's death, and he wasn't an agent of SHIELD, furthermore, he'd had at least half a magazine tear through him.

Coulson and the others were probably blaming him for her kidnapping.

A small part of her felt a little guilty, maybe if she hadn't taken that shot at Cyrus, Ward would be alive and the team would still be whole and working on tracking down Caleb and Cyrus anyway. If she hadn't taken the shot, maybe Jennifer would still be alive.

"So, uh, we've got a cleaning crew back at base, right?" one of the operatives asked quietly.

* * *

"What the hell happened?" Coulson demanded, his eyes fixed on May.

"I don't know," Mays said firmly. "I was upstairs when it happened, Cyrus was the only other person who saw and... Well..."

Coulson looked back at what was left of the house, whatever their attackers had used was very effective at burning things up.

"What _did_ you see then?" Coulson faced her once more.

"I heard gunshots, then Skye yelling, she got dragged out of the house, I tried pursuing but there's not much I can do on foot with ICER against armoured truck," May huffed with irritation. "Dammit, this shouldn't have happened,"

"Were they Hydra?" Coulson asked.

"They looked more like standard mercenaries," May told him. "Who knows who they were working for,"

"They acted a lot more tactical than standard mercenaries, not as sloppy as I'd expect," Hunter commented.

"Ex-marines perhaps," May shrugged.

"It's more likely," Hunter nodded.

"They knew we'd be coming," Coulson uttered.

"Why did they take Skye?" Mack asked.

"We can get some of those answers," May told them.

"How?" Mack raised an eyebrow.

May pointed at the body lying face down in the gravel.

"Good," Coulson nodded. "But we need to move fast,"

"So what's the plan?"

"I'll contact director Fury, I think it's time we checked in with him on our progress, we'll also need a cleanup team here to close this area off for a while,"

"What about this guy?" Mack rolled their hostage over with a booted toe.

"Hunter can handle the interrogation back on the Bus," Coulson answered then looked at Mack. "I need you here when Fury arrives, give him a rundown of what we've found so far, the rest of us will start searching for Skye,"

"What're you and I doing?" May asked.

"We'll get out on the road, the second we get a hit on Skye's location we'll be en route,"

"If you're taking all the cars, how am I supposed to get back to the Bus?" the mechanic asked.

"I'm sure the director will give you a ride on a Quinjet if you ask nicely," Coulson smiled.

* * *

It was a long while before the van finally came to a stop and Skye's bum hurt from sitting on the floor for the entirety of the journey. What must have been halfway through, they'd pulled over because her vomit was starting to stink up the back of the van. Once they arrived, Skye was yet again yanked to her feet and chucked from the back, she tumbled onto the floor, it was tarmac this time, and it hurt.

"Easy!" a new voice snapped from a short distance away as she was put on her feet. "She's needed in one piece,"

"Sorry, sir,"

"Bring her inside,"

Skye drank in as much of her surroundings as possible, they were stood near a building in some kind of coastal village atop a cliff front. It was deserted aside from a few personnel dressed in military uniforms. She stumbled a little over her own feet as she was shoved towards a large white concrete tower, despite the cozy appearance it filled her with dread as she passed through the door.

Inside was drastically different, engines and dark metal with an elevator in the center that glowed with a blue pulsing light.

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," said the same voice that she'd heard lecture one of the operatives.

The elevator ride down was near epileptic, what with the constant blue flashing lights, by the time they reached the ground floor Skye was seeing stars and had to be tugged down a well-lit corridor of an enormous underground facility that bustled with even more uniformed personnel.

Still a little dazed from the elevator, she missed much of what was going on around her as she was put into a small interrogation room. She put her head on the table and groaned, she felt sedated. That wasn't good.

Everything she'd seen appeared Hydra run, in her opinion there was a very Nazi feel to the place, and yet there was no insignia anywhere that indicated that. In fact, everything reminded her of how things worked back at SHIELD. It was normal and yet extremely discomforting at the same time.

The door opened a few minutes later, a woman in a crisp navy suit entered, they were accompanied by two operatives.

"Get her up," the suit ordered. "Saber and Mastadon want to see her,"

"Can I- Can I just get up on my own accord for once?" Skye asked as she got to her feet, her body swayed a little.

"Take her to the lab to have that blood washed off, then meet me by the elevator," the suit huffed and turned on her heel to leave.

Once more Skye was being dragged, out of the room and back down the corridor, this time she was taken into a large laboratory and over to a sink unit.

"Wash your hands," one of the operatives ordered.

For a moment Skye just stared into the sink then shifted her gaze to the blood on her. She wasn't sure how she felt, on the one hand, Cyrus had been a murderer, but on the other, she believed his story about a sister and her gut hadn't been wrong yet. It didn't matter now, though, they were both dead.

She felt guilty. Like it was her fault. Cyrus had told her it wasn't. Cyrus blamed himself too, for being weak. She scrubbed her hands together hard until the water in the sink was crimson. When she was done she was guided to another lift where the suit was standing as she said she would.

This lift descended even deeper into the cliff.

"Who's Saber?" Skye asked.

"Quiet," the suit said.

"You've kidnapped me, who are you people?" she continued.

"I said, be quiet,"

"Who are you?" Skye demanded. "Are you Hydra?"

The suit smacked her hard across the face making her head jerk to the side. The sound echoed around the box and even made the two operatives glance over in surprise. Skye rubbed her cheek and glared, her eyes welled with tears from the sudden strike.

"Any further disobedience and you'll receive far worse,"

"Then tell me what I want to know,"

"You'll learn all you need to in due time,"

The elevator doors opened and the four headed down a short corridor to a lone door at the end. The suit knocked three times.

"Enter!" A voice barked from the other side.

* * *

Fitz jumped from computer to tablet then back again, his fingers a blur on the keyboard as he searched frequency waves for Skye's phone while simultaneously searching camera terminals for signs of an armoured truck. Jemma watched with her arms folded as he worked.

"I can't find her," he huffed angrily. "They must've destroyed the phone or something, I don't-"

"Take it easy, Fitz," Jemma said soothingly. "We'll find her,"

"Will she be alive this time? Or will she be bleeding out from her stomach?" Fitz sniffed.

"Skye can handle herself," Jemma squeezed his shoulder. "Just focus on the truck,"

"Right," he looked at her, gave her a slight smile. "I just don't want a repeat of what happened with Quinn,"

"Neither do I," Jemma agreed as Fitz went to work again.

"At least that Cyrus guy is out of the picture,"

"Don't say that Fitz, he was bad, yes, but that doesn't mean he deserved to die,"

"He killed people," Fitz told her. "Innocent people,"

"I'm not saying he was right,"

"Then? You're starting to sound like Coulson,"

"Look. I'm just saying he should've been locked up and left to rot, getting killed at the house-"

"Doesn't do justice to those he's killed,"

"Something like that," Jemma shrugged.

* * *

The room Skye entered next had a single, rectangular table in the center surrounded by chairs, at the head of the table sat another woman, brown skin, dark hair and brown eyes. She eyed Skye carefully as she was stationed at the other end. Sitting to the woman's left was a man, muscular and pale with thin grey hair and green eyes, he sat flicking through a file and didn't bother looking up. Standing behind them was an Asian woman, unlike the other two, she had a somewhat kind face with brown hair, dark eyes, light skin and distinct scarring on her right cheek. She perked up significantly when Skye entered.

Skye exchanged a look with each of them, felt a lump rising in her throat.

"Uncuff her," the man ordered, his eyes still on the paper in front of him. He was British.

One of the operatives flanking her leaned around and did as he was told.

"You can leave us, lieutenants," the woman said calmly, Skye heard the two behind her salute before retreating to the door.

The man looked up at the scarred woman. "This is her, correct?"

"Yes," the woman said with a quivering smile.

"Good, you can go,"

The Asian woman lingered for a moment, seemingly mesmerised by Skye's presence, then she disappeared through another door leaving Skye standing by herself with three people staring at her like a freak.

"Where am I?" Skye asked yet again.

"Where you need to be," the woman said.

Skye shook her head, her lips quivering with emotion as she yelled across the table. "You've kidnapped me and killed someone I know, you're going to have to do better than that!"

The man laughed. "Fiesty,"

"Answer me!" Skye screamed.

"Mind your tone, girl," the suit snapped. "That's no way to speak to the heads of Hydra,"

Skye looked at the woman and smirked. "So you are Hydra,"

A gunshot.

Skye jumped. Her face frozen in shock. She looked down at herself.

 _Still in one piece._

The woman in the suit gasped, took a drunken step backward and fell to the floor clutching her stomach. Skye covered her mouth.

"I knew promoting her to command was a stupid idea," the man muttered as the woman put a smoking Glock down on the tabletop.

Skye was mortified, she stared wide-eyed at the two Hydra leaders unsure of what to do with herself. They were ruthless and decisive. She wanted to run but that would only get her killed and given what she'd just witnessed, there definitely wouldn't be any hesitation.

"Now," the woman looked at her intensely. "You're here at the request of one of our employees, normally we wouldn't oblige but, you are an interesting individual to say the least, hence, here you are,"

"Welcome to one of our many bases of operation," the man said with a cheeriness that made Skye's skin crawl.

"It won't be long until Doctor Jiaying is ready for you, after that, you'll hopefully be a wonderful addition to Hydra,"

"I'll never join you," Skye told them.

"Maybe not by choice," the man smirked. "But you will,"

The man got up and wandered over to her, Skye flinched.

"You've been of interest for quite a while now, Skye," he stopped and folded his arms. "We've been watching you, waiting,"

"What?"

"Albeit weird, yes, but it came to our attention you were special,"

"Special?"

"You've great potential, Skye, and now that our plans are in motion it seemed the right time to bring you in," the woman continued.

"How do you know my name?"

"Like I said, we've been watching you for a while, monitoring you whenever you're in public," the man took over once more. "It's only a matter of time before you join our cause... And comply,"

Skye blinked. She was afraid. Very afraid.

* * *

"Agent Hunter?" Fury's face appeared on the monitor in the debriefing room. He looked pissed. "What the hell is going on down there? Where's the hell is Coulson? Hell, where the hell is Agent May!"

Turned out that Agent Coulson never informed the director what was happening, instead, he'd lumbered that job on Hunter by making it top priority before the interrogation went ahead. that annoyed the agent, he'd been itching to do some head bashing.

"Coulson's currently pursuing a lead, sir," the agent stood casually in front of the screen.

"A lead?" Fury looked to the side. "Does it happen to have anything to do with that mess at the private woodland home of Caleb Robinson?"

"Uh, it might do, yes,"

"This isn't exactly turning out as I'd hoped," Fury said. "What happened?"

"We were investigating a lead from a source, unfortunately, we were attacked,"

"Dammit," he sighed. "Was anyone hurt?"

"Agent Skye was taken and one of ours was killed,"

"Who?"

"An asset, that bloke, Cyrus Quinton, you know the one-"

"The one you brought in as a suspect for the murders?" Fury interrupted.

"The very same,"

"Great... Where's his body?"

"Whoever attacked us burned the house down, Cyrus was already dead, there was nothing we could do,"

"This is a mess," Fury said.

"I agree, I think Coulson said something about requiring a cleanup team," Hunter squinted in thought as he pretended to recall what was said.

"I figured that would be Coulson's request while he disappears off on some goose chase,"

"That's the boss," Hunter shrugged.

"I'm already on my way with a team," Fury explained. "You people any closer to finding your agent?"

"I've no idea," Hunter jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm actually preparing for an interrogation,"

"Interrogation of whom?"

"Some poor sod May stopped before he could jump on the escape vehicle, he had really sucky friends... They just left him behind," Hunter sighed deeply.

"Right... Anything else I need to know?"

"Don't think so," Hunter shrugged. "Anything else _I_ need to know, sir?"

"Just let Coulson know I am not happy,"

"Gladly," Hunter gave a mock salute.

* * *

Skye was trapped in a box. Literally. Four transparent walls kept her in a two meter by two-meter space. Outside were three people in lab coats and the woman that had been in the room before. Normally, Skye knew, she'd be making a noise, demanding to be let out or searching for a way to escape but something had numbed her ability to think straight, not only that, but she was naked. At some point during her journey from the room with the Hydra leaders to this box, they'd removed her clothes. She didn't dare move her hands from where they were.

Embarrassment and anger. That was all she felt right now.

"Chamber is ready for stasis envelopment," one of the scientists told the woman.

"Good, sequencing,"

The woman stepped over to a console and pressed a few buttons. Above the glass cell hung a small cube with a grate at the bottom, similarly, there was a grate on the top of Skye's cell that perfectly matched the descending cube.

"What are you doing?" Skye screamed in a sudden burst of energy stepping towards the frontmost piece of glass.

"Nothing that will hurt you," the woman said in a soft voice.

"What is that?"

"Something that will keep you safe until we're ready for you,"

Skye stared at the woman in disbelief then looked up as the cube settled itself on the top of the cell.

"Stop! Please!" Skye begged.

"It's for your own good," the woman insisted.

There was a hissing noise above, Skye's head jerked upwards as a grey cloud was injected into the box. It swept downwards and engulfed her before dispersing to nothing. She leaned heavily against the wall with her shoulder as she clutched herself, her stomach felt sick and her lungs felt heavy as she sunk to her knees and hunched over.

Her breathing got shallower and her eyelids heavy. She swayed back and forth, squeezing her eyes tightly shut and opening them wide to keep awake, but it was futile. Whatever they'd drugged her with was strong, not that that was any surprise. She was slowly slipping into some kind of coma.

"No," she breathed weakly. "No..."

"Relax," the woman said softly. "You'll be okay,"

In her state, Skye had failed to see a grate below her that started to seep a blue gel into the chamber. It was cold on her skin and made her shiver, there was nothing she could do as it quickly rose up her body to fill the chamber. A tear rolled down her cheek and she gave the scar-faced scientist a look of fear before the sedative took hold and she slipped away into unconsciousness.


	11. Afterlife, Aftermath

Chapter Ten: Afterlife, Aftermath

 _Death's a difficult concept to come to grips with._

 _Are you really dead?_

 _Does the mind live on?_

 _I'm sure I read somewhere that your entire life flashes before your eyes in the seven seconds just before you truly die._

 _Is there something beyond death?_

 _A heaven, or something similar?_

 _I reckon my heaven would be Earth again, reborn in my own mind but I live longer than what I did in this life. Things would be better. Maybe I want that because I'm still young, I haven't experienced everything I could have._

 _What do elderly people long for during death?_

 _A chance to right wrongs or do something they were too afraid to do the first time?_

 _No one knows._

 _It'll probably remain that no one will ever know._

 _The worst would probably be nothingness._

 _But would it?_

 _You wouldn't know if there was nothingness, would you?_

 _Do you forget?_

 _I don't think I'm going to die. I don't feel afraid. But maybe that's just me._

 _I'm floating in a void._

 _Complete darkness._

 _Tranquil?_

 _Perhaps._

 _..._

 _No. Definitely not._

 _It's eerier._

 _Loud._

 _Unsettling._

 _I can hear the crackle of a fire._

 _A sting in my chest._

 _A tightness._

 _Do you... feel death?_

 _It'd be torturous if you did. At least I'd assume so. Passing to and fro... Dead... Alive... Dead... Alive..._

 _There was a breeze._

 _Just cold enough to raise goosebumps on my chest and arms._

 _I shivered._

 _No._

 _I'm not dead._

 _I had been dying..._

 _But not anymore._

* * *

Fury raised his head in surprise as one of the agents yelped in surprise. Looking over he spotted her trying to pull herself free of something that had a hold on her trouser leg. Shoving the pad he was reading at an agent standing nearby he took off running.

"Agent Mackenzie!" he boomed to the mechanic who had been giving instructions to a couple of younger agents.

Mack was already on the move, his ICER coming up as he moved in behind the Director.

By the time they reached the agent that had called out she'd managed to break free of whatever had had her pinned.

"Agent Leslie, what happened?" Fury asked her.

Breathless and embarrassed by her outburst, she hurriedly straightened her uniform before answering. "Something grabbed my leg,"

Fury raised a brow, skeptically.

"Sir," Mack said in a low voice.

"What?" Fury looked at him.

The mechanic pointed at the ground, protruding from the ground was a soot-coated forearm and hand, it was propped upright with the hand hanging limp. As the three SHIELD agents stared the limb twitched, Mack stepped back on reflex his gun training on his target.

Fury, on the other hand, knelt down and reached out toward where he figured the person's head would be. He gently brushed away the soot, sure enough, there was a person, tan skin, and a curly black curly mop for hair with an unshaven beard. Fury looked at Leslie.

"Get a medical team here," he ordered, then he looked at Mack.

The giant of an agent was stood staring at the body with recognition.

"Familiar?" Fury asked, though he'd already pieced together this was the initial suspect, but he wanted confirmation.

"This is the guy that was brought in on suspicion of attempting to kill Caleb Robinson's son," Mack explained.

Fury nodded his head, eyed the body, noted there didn't appear to be any burn marks on him. He frowned but didn't say anything.

"No burn marks," Mack commented.

Fury nodded once more. "Curious,"

"Some kind of enhanced person?"

"Possibly," Fury got to his feet. "What did you say his name was?"

"He told us it was Cyrus Quinton," Mack answered. "But he's lied to us before so it might not even be his real name,"

"He's not registered on the index," Fury said.

As the medical team approached and began prepping to move the body, it sat up.

This time, Fury was the one who took an instinctive step away.

Cyrus coughed, a thick plume of ash leaving his mouth. He groaned, rubbed a hand over his chest, his brows furrowing in slight pain. He looked around at the faces watching him from behind guns. He slowly raised his hands, swallowed, ended up spluttering.

"Cyrus Quinton?" Fury asked.

Cyrus nodded, his head was ringing and he still ached.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine, just a little... Dizzy," came the reply. "What happened?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Mack said gripping his gun a little tighter.

"Easy," Fury warned.

"Sir, he died," Mack retorted quietly. "He owes us an explanation on how he's alive,"

"I agree, but this isn't the place," Fury told them. "Get him up."

As Mack pulled Cyrus onto his feet there was a bunch of commotion from beyond the line of SHIELD vehicles, turning around, Fury, Mack, and Cyrus watched as a group of reporters came charging up toward them with microphones and cameras.

"What the hell?" Fury scowled as he wandered toward them, holstering his weapon as he went. He pointed a finger at the group accusingly. "Who the hell let you through, this is a restricted area!"

Behind the reporters were four agents giving chase.

"Sorry, sir!" One yelled.

Fury whipped a finger to silence them. "I want those damn cameras turned off and the footage deleted,"

"Yes, sir," an agent acknowledged.

"Director Fury, can we get a word on what happened here?" an obnoxiously loud male voice called.

"Is that a survivor of the incident?" Another yelled. All cameras turned to Cyrus who stared wide-eyed in shock. Mack turned him away, using his large frame as a shield. Cyrus wasn't exactly presentable or modest in his charred, if not missing, clothing. They attempted following Mack's movements but a wall of other agents, who'd had to stop their own tasks, appeared and began to push the reporters back beyond the cars.

Mack tucked Cyrus into the back of an SUV before getting into the passenger seat in front of him.

They made eye contact in the rearview mirror.

"How are you alive?"

Cyrus coughed quietly. Sighed and looked down at his lap.

"It's... Complicated,"

"Complicated is in the job description," Mack growled. "Now tell me how you survived a raging house fire while Skye gets taken by armed men,"

"I'm not exactly... Normal,"

"I can tell, there's not a single burn on you," Mack said. "So, what are you?"

"Well, in truth, I'm an Inhuman," Cyrus told him.

"A what?"

"Part human, part... Alien," he explained looking out of the window.

"Alien... Great," Mack huffed. "And what exactly does that mean you can do?"

"Manipulate smoke,"

Mack turned in his seat. "So it was you,"

Cyrus raised his eyes and looked at him. Nodded with regret.

"Yeah... It was me,"

"Those were innocent people,"

"You don't need to remind me, I know what I did," Cyrus said. "My reason was sound, maybe I could've figured something else out but I didn't have a clear head... I still don't,"

"You had opportunities to call for help,"

"You don't know Caleb, he has a foot in every door, he'd have found out... He did find out, that's why we're in this situation,"

"This situation-" Mack began.

"I don't need you to remind me," Cyrus interrupted. "I know what I did, I know that it was wrong, and I know I can't be forgiven,"

"No, you can't, you should be locked up and left to rot,"

"Maybe, but not before I help you get Skye back,"

"That won't fix anything,"

"I know, but at least it'll make me feel a little better," Cyrus shrugged. "Besides, she was the only one that's actually given me a chance,"

"You didn't deserve a chance,"

Cyrus lowered his head and sighed.

 _No. Maybe I didn't._

* * *

Isabel impatiently paced up and down with her phone pressed to her ear. Cyrus hadn't called or picked up his phone in ages, his trip to the East of Canada in search of Jennifer was supposed to have ended two days ago, yet he still wasn't back. A mixture of worry and anger brewed in the pit of her stomach.

"Come on, pick up," she huffed as her phone went to voicemail for the thirty-seventh time that week. "Where are you?"

She was pacing around inside one of Afterlife's two lounge areas, here others were preparing for classes or just enjoying some downtime. One of the two TVs was on and showing the news, sat on the couch watching it was Malcolm.

"You alright?" he asked, turning around to look at her.

She nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm fine,"

"Cyrus not picking up his phone?" he nodded at the mobile in her hand.

"Are you eavesdropping on me?" she frowned.

"No. You just think out loud," he shrugged.

"He should've been back already," Isabel explained bluntly.

"Maybe he found a cute girl," Malcolm offered.

Isabel's nose curled slightly. As much as she didn't believe what he said, she did worry that's what had happened. She shook the thought out of her head and sighed.

"I doubt it,"

"I'm just saying if he can't give you the time of day to answer your calls maybe you should stop chasing after him,"

"Chase-" Isabel strode around the couch and glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You like him,"

"I do not," she snapped.

"No? Then you and I can hang out tomorrow,"

Before Isabel could retort an urgent news story flashed onto the screen, the distinct sound making both Isabel and Malcolm avert their attention to the screen. The newscaster, Marcy Oaks, was sat beside a flashing white box with the words 'Breaking News' flashing inside it.

 _"Just a few hours ago, we received word that the getaway home in Saratoga Springs of the famous Caleb Robinson, was destroyed in a horrendous incident,"_ She started. _"Our reporters at the scene aren't sure as to what happened exactly, but from the footage, it appears that the home was burned down in some kind of fire,"_

Sure enough, there was a video segment of investigators wandering through the charred remains of a house. An angry looking male wearing an eyepatch came striding towards the bustling group of reports demanding them to turn off their cameras and leave the restricted area as they were investigating an active and sensitive case.

"Jesus," Malcolm muttered. "Who would do something like this?"

 _"Thankfully, the CEO of Engine, along with his family, was not within the residence at the time of its destruction. Insofar the authorities, which, according to our sources, is the government agency SHIELD, have not arrested anyone on suspicion of this heinous attack,"_

Marcy paused for a moment. Touched her ear. Nodded her head.

 _"We've just received some extra video feed from our on-scene reporters suggesting that there was actually someone inside the house at the time it burned down, it's unknown as to whether or not this individual is a survivor or if he is indeed the arsonist,"_

The footage was crisp, though there was motion blur from the cameraman either moving too much or being knocked by others, either way, the image of SHIELDs director, Nick Fury, was clear.

 _"Is that a survivor of the incident?"_ One of the reporters called out.

Almost immediately, the camera panned to the right and zoomed in on a young male covered head to toe in soot who was leaning heavily on a muscular looking SHIELD agent.

Isabel stared at the image for a while, but it only took a second to recognise who it was, there was no mistaking the face, hair, or build. She felt her heart sink as the image bore into her retinas. It was Cyrus.

"What the fuck," she breathed.

"What on Earth is he doing there?" Malcolm asked as he leaned forward on the couch.

"I thought he was in Canada," Isabel whispered.

"Clearly not," Malcolm snorted. "Clearly he's in New York,"

"Did you find something?" she asked quietly as the camera followed the SHIELD agent bodying Cyrus towards a vehicle.

"At least you know why he hasn't been calling,"

"You'd call me if you found something, I know you would," she continued to herself. "You've been lying to me about something,"

"Iz?" Malcolm asked. "You're talking to yourself,"

She looked at him. Said nothing. Then left the room.

"Iz?" Malcolm called after her.

* * *

Gordon was talking to one of the potential Inhumans he'd been tasked with preparing for Terrigenesis when the entirety of Afterlife shook violently. He straightened off the edge of his desk and looked around.

"What's happening?" the girl asked.

"Nothing good by the sounds of things," he replied. "Wait here,"

There was screaming.

As Gordon ran through the base towards the entrance he was met with waves of people heading in the opposite direction.

One of the older members rushed over to him.

"What's happening?" Gordon asked.

"Base is under attack," came the reply. "Not sure how they found us,"

"Dammit,"

"Some of those who've gone through Terrigenesis are trying to hold them off,"

Gordon didn't like this. "Get to the lower lounge with as many of the others as you can, stay hidden, I'll see if I can talk these people want,"

"They don't seem to be in a very talkative mood,"

"Anyone hurt?"

"I don't know,"

Gordon nodded and broke into a run.

Nearing the main corridor to the entrance he could hear the sounds of weapons being fired along with a few extra explosions. At the other end was a light show that was being reflected through a cloud of concrete that had been vapourised in the initial breach. There was a couple of bodies on the floor, neither of them was moving. Gordon ran to the closest one and crouched down, checked for a pulse, it was weak. Using his teleporting ability he took a firm grip on their t-shirt and moved the person to the lower lounge.

When he returned the second body was already gone, the dust cloud was settling and there was no light show.

Instead, advancing toward him with peculiar looking guns, was a group of soldiers. Behind them, a second group was dragging the downed Inhumans out on stretchers.

"Don't do anything stupid," one of them told him.

Gordon heard two pairs of footsteps come up behind him.

"Gordon," said a female voice.

He turned his head and saw Isabel, who was carrying a duffel bag, and Malcolm standing at his flanks.

"Get out of here," he told them.

"The three off you need to get on your knees," ordered the same soldier.

"You'd better back off," Malcolm yelled at them.

Gordon glared at him. "What're you doing!"

It was too late. Malcolm was already charging up his ergokinesis. As he charged forward he was shut down by whatever weapons the soldiers brandished, he dropped like a stone, and the weapons were quickly turned on Gordon and Isabel. Before they could be fired, Gordon dived at Isabel and teleported them both to the lounge.

Getting to their feet it took them seconds to realise that the assailants had already infiltrated Afterlife from another point and were gathering up the remainder of its residents who were all lying on the floor unconscious.

"Oh no," Gordon murmured.

"Hey!" a soldier yelled raising his gun.

Gordon grabbed Isabel's sleeve and teleported.

* * *

They appeared in the alley of a nearby village, one that Gordon had visited a few times before. He dusted himself off and paced agitatedly.

"How did this happen?" Gordon murmured to himself. "How did they find us?"

Isabel slung the duffel bag over her shoulder and looked at him.

"Did you get a chance to watch the news today?"

Gordon looked at her. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well... It's just that Cyrus is with SHIELD at the moment,"

"What?"

"There was a fire and Cyrus was involved somehow,"

He ran a hand over his face. "Were you planning on telling me or is that what the duffel bag is for?"

Isabel looked at the bag. "I planned on going after him,"

"Yeah, well, not anymore," Gordon told her. "You just saw what happened to Afterlife, we need to go back,"

"And do what?" she asked. "There's no way we'd be able to do anything, it was an organised attack,"

"Then what do you suggest we do, because I don't have a clue,"

"Like I said, Cyrus was involved in an incident with SHIELD, he's the best option we have right now,"

"You just want to find him because he's two days late,"

Isabel nodded glumly. "I care about him,"

"I can tell," Gordon said. "But if this doesn't work..."

"They weren't killing anyone, were they?"

"No. But that doesn't make it any better," Gordon shook his head. "Why did they want us captured? And who the hell were they?"

Isabel had the same questions, but more pressing, she wanted to find Cyrus so she could scream at him for lying to her.

"Let's go find Cyrus," she said.


End file.
